I 


PAMELA  CONGREVE 


Pamela    Congreve. 


A  NOVEL 

By 

FRANCES  AYMAR 
MATHEWS 

AUTHOR  OF 
"  My  Lady  Peggy  Goes  to 
Town,"  "A  Little  Tragedy 
at  Tien  Tsin,"  etc.,  etc. 

WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW  YORK 

3DaHfi,  iHrati  anU  Companp 
1904 


c'5. 


COPYRIGHT,  1904,  BY 

DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 

Stage  Rights  ttie  Property  of  the  Auttwr 

Published  April,  1904 


To 
G.  A.  D. 

Poet,  Artist,  Sculptor,  Novelist, 
Philanthropist,  Friend 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  THE  FAIREST  FACE  IN  ALL  ENGLAND  ...  3 

II.  THE  PLAYERS'  BOOTH  AT  TAMWORTH  FAIR         .  10 

III.  WHILE  THE  TIDE  SLIPPED  OUT    ....  18 

IV.  "POSIES!    POSIES!    WILL  YE  HAVE  MY  POSIES?"  22 
V.    THE  DANCING  LESSON 32 

VI.  Two  STRINGS  HATH  LADY  BETTY  TO  HER  Bow  41 

VII.    "PELHAM" 53 

VIII.    "  I  HA'  DONE  A  MURDER  " 67 

IX.    THE  SWEET-ACRE 84 

X.  LADY  BETTY  MAKES  UP  HER  MIND      .        .        .  101 

XI.  SIR  THOMAS  VISITS  THE  BOTTOMLESS  PIT    .        .112 

XII.  SIR  THOMAS'  FAMILY  FOLLOWS  His  LEAD    .        .  123 

XIII.  "PASTORELLA" 133 

XIV.  THE  ADORABLE  CAPTAIN  MIRABEAU      .        .        .  142 
XV.  THE  DEED  TO  HARLOWE  HOUSE    ....  154 

XVI.     THE  PARAMOUNT  THIRD 160 

XVII.  THE  HOUR  BEFORE  THE  DAWN      ....  169 

XVIII.  ALL  IN  A  CARRIER'S  CART  WENT  SHE    .        .        .  173 

XIX.    "WHERE'S  PAMELA?" 177 

XX.     AT  THE  CAT  AND  FIDDLE 188 

XXI.  AT  THE  THRESHOLD  OF  ST.  BEES  ....  203 

XXII.  THE  WRECK  OF  THE  PORTAFERRY  FRIGATE     .        .  212 

XXIII.  BACK  IN  LONDON 227 

XXIV.  AT  THE  ASTROLOGER'S  IN  THE  STRAND   .        .        .  237 
XXV.    AT    HAHLOWE    HOUSE 247 

vii 


Vlll 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XXVI.  "I'LL  TELL  THEE  ALL  TO-MORROW" 

XXVII.    THE  SILVER  KEY 

XXVIII.  "BEHOLD,  IT  is  TO-MORROW" 

XXIX.    SURREY   BEAUCLEHC 

XXX.  ON  TOP  OF  THE  GARDEN  WALL      . 

XXXI.  THE  PLOT  OF  THE  PLAY 

XXXII.  WHY  SHE  LOVED  HIM    .... 

XXXIII.  THE  PASSWORD 

XXXIV.  A  RIDE  FOR  A  LIFE 

XXXV.  SHOT  THROUGH  THE  HEART    . 

XXXVI.  PINK  AND  HTS  MASTER    .... 

XXXVII.  A  THIEF  IN  THE  NIGHT          .        .        . 

XXXVIII.  THE  HUNCHBACK  AND  THE  IDIOT  LAD   . 

XXXIX.  WHEN  THE  TIDE  RISES  AT  TAMWORTH  . 

XL.  TRUEST,  NOBLEST,  DEAREST  FRIEND 

XLI.  "Tnou  AND  I  TOGETHER" 


PACK 

268 
277 
293 
300 
314 
325 
341 
345 
359 
367 
374 
379 
386 
393 
402 
405 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING 
PAGE 

Pamela  Congreve Frontispiece 

"On  the  strip  of  polished  counter  Pam  danced  on"        .  38 

"  Peering  into  it  over  her  own  fair,  bare  shoulder "        .  96 

"  He  encountered  a  little  maiden  all  in  grey "        .        .  136 

"  Out  from  the  great  gilt  frame  stepped  Lord  Charteris  "  242 

"Raised  it  half-way  to  her  lips" 328 


ix 


PAMELA  CONGREVE 

CHAPTER  I 

THE   FAIREST  FACE  IN  ALL  ENGLAND 

IT  was  a  fair  face  that  lay  in  the  furrow  between 
the  waving  corn ;  the  silken  tassels,  dew-drip- 
ping, swept  it ;  the  poppies  brushed  it  with  their 
filmy  scarlet ;  the  winds  of  the  dawn  whispered  to  it ; 
the  paling  stars  and  the  paler  moon  lighted  it,  while 
the  morning,  leaning  over  the  cloudland  in  the  east, 
touched  its  pallor  into  a  semblance  of  rose.  A  fair 
face,  indeed — so  fair  that  one  day  his  most  gracious 
Majesty  the  King  was  to  cry  out  in  his  palace  of  St. 
James',  "  'Fore  Heaven,  sirs,  this  is  the  most  beau- 
tiful lady  in  all  England ! "  And  no  one  could  say 
him  nay. 

She  had  fallen  in  a  deep  furrow,  safe  sheltered  from 
the  gaze  of  travellers  on  the  highway  which  wound 
down  from  London,  thirty  miles  distant,  to  Tarn- 
worth,  not  a  mile  away ;  safe  sheltered  from  the  farm- 
ers and  their  boys  already  up  and  away  to  the  fields, 


4  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

from  the  maids  skurrying  to  the  lowing  kine,  even 
from  the  peering  eyes  of  the  waking  birds.  A  rabbit 
jumped  across  the  furrow  and  rose  on  his  hind  paws 
to  nibble  at  an  ear  of  corn ;  a  dragon-fly  hummed  at 
her  eyelids  and  hovered  at  her  mouth,  of  as  deep  a 
scarlet  as  the  poppies  crushed  beneath  her  slim  body 
in  its  soaked  and  dripping  garments. 

Pamela  slept  such  sleep  as  only  the  weary  can 
know,  carried  so  far  away  on  its  broad,  soft  wings 
that  when  she  opened  her  eyes  upon  the  ripening  corn 
and  the  swaying  poppies,  it  was  with  the  question, 
"  Where  am  I  ?  "  upon  her  lips. 

Then  she  felt  the  sag  and  cling  of  her  petticoats, 
and  she  tasted  the  salt  on  her  lips,  and  she  remembered 
all  that  had  gone  before;  and  she  turned  over  with 
her  cheek  to  the  brown  earth,  and  cried  out  in  a  low 
voice  in  the  dawn: 

"  Get  away !  get  away !  I  tell  'ee !  I  won't  see  'ee ! 
'Way !  'way !  'Twas  a  foul  deed,  'fore  Heaven  'twas, 
and  him  not  the  guilty  one.  Nay,  not  him,  but  an- 
other, another  with  smooth  tongue,  velvet  lips,  honey 
speech !  Ah,  la !  God  A'mighty !  Out  o'  my  sight, 
I  say!  Don't  ye  come  a-stretchin'  and  a-creakin' 
where  Pam  can  see  and  hear  'ee  no  more!  Deed's 
done.  Him's  buried  by  this.  And,  oh,  la !  la !  " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  5 

The  girl  was  now  upon  her  knees,  hands  pressed  to 
her  eyes  as  if  to  shut  out  some  horrible  vision.  Shud- 
dering, sobbing,  torn  by  violent  emotion,  with  face 
upraised  to  the  sky,  she  cried : 

"  Mother !  are  'ee  yonder  som'eres,  heh  ?  Answer 
Pam !  Was  'ee  at  the  brink  a-waitin'  for  him  when 
the  noose  sent  him  swingin'?  Aye,  'ee  was,  if  so  be  't 
there's  any  place  yonder  at  all,  'ee  was!  'Ee  hear, 
don't  'ee?  Now  hearken.  I'm  out  'n  the  cave,  nor 
drownded,  though  tide  rose,  an'  me  hidin'  there  after 
I  quitted  him.  I  got  in  the  boat,  and  drifted  till  the 
sea  went  down  and  left  me  on  the  dunes.  I  went 
runnin'  past  midnight,  till  I  reached  hard  by  Tarn- 
worth  side;  then  I  gained  the  highway  and  a  corn- 
field, and  I  slipped  into  a  furrow  an'  slept.  It's 
mornin'  hereabouts — is't  mornin'  where  'ee  be?  An' 
hearken,  Pam's  goin'  into  Tamworth  village  seekin' 
work.  She's  quit  the  gang  and  the  past  for  aye. 
But  there's  all  the  whole  of  't,  with  him  'at  swung, 
and  him  'at  didn't  swing,  oh,  Lord  A'migkty!  writ 
out  simple  in  my  heart,  and  there  ain't  nothin'  on 
earth  can  ever  blot  'em  out,  never,  not  even  when  I 
learns  laughin'  once  more." 

As  the  sun  crept  up  from  the  horizon,  the  girl 
slowly  gained  the  edge  of  the  field,  then  skirted  the 


6  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

road  under  the  shadow  of  the  hedge,  making  for 
Tamworth  village,  which  she  descried  by  the  church 
steeple  with  its  gilded  tip. 

None  were  yet  stirring  in  Tamworth,  not  even  in 
the  High  Street,  at  the  farther  end  of  which  Pam 
perceived  a  building  standing  in  a  clump  of  elms. 
This  was  the  Inn,  its  sign  of  the  Greene  Shippe  creak- 
ing now  in  the  wind  as  it  had  creaked  for  more  than 
a  hundred  years. 

As  she  approached  the  house,  she  staggered.  Her 
long  fast,  the  chill  of  her  wet  garments,  her  weary 
journey  afoot,  and  her  anguish  of  mind,  these  were 
having  their  effect.  No  wonder  that,  as  she  reached 
the  rear  door  of  the  building,  she  sank  down  in  a 
swoon. 

Here  she  was  found  by  the  maids  as  they  came  out 
to  milk.  One  of  them,  who  had  a  soft  heart  for  suf- 
fering things,  got  the  unconscious  stranger  indoors 
to  the  fire  as  best  she  could,  chafed  her  cold  hands, 
and  by  degrees  brought  her  to  herself. 

"  Lord  'a'  mercy ! "  cried  the  girl,  wringing  the 
salt  water  from  the  stranger's  skirts.  "  Wherever 
have  you  been  ?  Shipwrecked,  belike  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  answered  Pamela,  too  weary  to  say  more. 

"  And  where  be  your  friends  ?  " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  7 

"  Dead  and  gone." 

"  All  on  'em  lost  but  you !  'Twas  a  fearsome 
night  at  sea.  Where  be  ye  from  ?  " 

"  The  Sea  Islands." 

"  What  '11  I  call  you  ?  "  asked  Jess,  as  she  helped 
Pam  to  get  off  the  wet  rags  and  into  dry  garments 
from  her  own  meagre  wardrobe. 

"  My  name  is  Pamela,"  said  the  newcomer,  now 
thoroughly  warm  and  grateful. 

"  That's  long." 

"  Pam,  then." 

"  There !  Ye  be  dry  at  least  now,  but  hush  a 
minute ! "  Heavy  footsteps  could  be  heard  in  the 
room  above.  "  The  missus  is  loud-tongued,  and  rules 
house  and  master.  None  the  less,  my  girl,  since  our 
Lisa  got  married  at  Michaelmas,  and  'tis  nigh  on  fair 
time,  mayhap,  if  'ee  wants  work,  I'd  speak  for  'ee 
to  missus,  and  get  'ee  Lisa's  place?  " 

"  Would  'ee  ?  "  said  Pam  eagerly. 

"  Aye.  What  can  'ee  do  ?  Draw  ale  and  pour 
strong  waters  was  what  Lisa  did.  Can  'ee?  " 

"  Aye,"  answered  the  delighted  Pam.    "  I  can." 

"  I'll  make  out  as  I'm  a  friend  of  your  cousin's 
in  the  Islands,  and  missus  '11  be  only  too  glad  to  get 
a  willin'  one  in  Lisa's  place.  Eat  a  cake?  " 


8  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Thank  ye." 

"  A  fine  sort,  ain't  it  ?  "  Pam  nodded  assent  as  she 
munched  with  the  appetite  which  even  misery  cannot 
take  from  youth  and  health.  "  Jock,  he's  our  boots, 
bought  me  a  paper  of  'em  last  week  over  at  Chilton." 

At  the  mention  of  Chilton,  Pam  let  the  cake  fall 
to  the  floor.  She  stooped  to  pick  it  up,  while  Jess 
continued,  unheeding: 

"  You  was  at  sea,  you  didn't  know?  We  had  a 
rare  sport  come  Thursday  a  se'ennight." 

Pam  avoided  meeting  the  eyes  of  her  new  friend, 
trying  her  best  to  hide  her  agitation. 

"  Aye,  a  hangin' !  "  repeated  Jess.  "  Lawk !  but 
the  whole  county  was  to  see  it,  quality  and  all!  A 
smuggler  murdered  the  coastguard  what  was  sent 
to  catch  him ;  right  yonder,"  pointing  down  below  the 
cliffs  to  the  sea,  where  it  swirled  between  dark  masses 
of  rock,  "  was  where  the  smuggler  hid  hisself  and 
where  he  killed  the  guard.  'Twas  a  grand  sight. 
Him  died  game,  I  tell  'ee.  Him  was  fairish  lookin', 
too,  big  and  swarth,  and  large  eyes,  fine  and  open, 
like  a  lord's.  'Tis  pity  you  missed  so  fine  a  holi- 
day ! " 

"  Aye !  "  agreed  Pam,  spreading  out  her  fingers  to 
the  fire. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  9 

"  I'm  off  to  milkin'.  Other  wenches  are  afore  me. 
Will  'ee  come  and  try  thy  hand  ?  " 

"  Aye,"  again  repeated  Pam,  rising. 

"  'Ee  says  *  aye '  to  all  things,  Pam.  'Ee's  got 
summat  in  'ee  mind.  Say !  "  She  lowered  her  voice 
as  she  added :  "  Is't — a  man  ?  " 

"  Mayhap,"  Pam  answered,  drawing  a  deep  sigh. 
Whereat  Jess  gave  a-  loud  guffaw,  and  the  two  new 
friends  passed  out  into  the  yard. 

Mistress  Dormer  of  the  Greene  Shippe  was  only 
too  glad  to  secure  a  .maid  so  pretty  and  promising 
in  place  of  the  recently  married  Lisa,  nor  was  she 
at  all  inquisitive  as  to  the  history  of  the  newcomer. 
With  a  view  to  putting  Pam's  beauty  to  practical 
use,  she  brought  out  a  pink  frock  and  a  dimity  apron, 
asking  Pam  to  put  them  on  preparatory  to  instruct- 
ing her  in  the  duties  of  a  barmaid. 

"  Lawk ! "  said  Mistress  Dormer  to  her  husband. 
"  Oliver,  any  gentleman  as  stops  here  will  drink  twice 
as  much  wine  as  when  Lisa  served,  and  every  lout  as 
tarries  '11  take  his  two  tobies  now  to  one  when  Lisa 
drew.  Jess's  friend's  worth  her  weight  to  'ee  and  me, 
man.  Come  this  fair  time,  we'll  beat  the  Blue  Pigeon 
all  into  a  muddle,  with  her  face  over  the  counter ! " 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  PLAYERS'  BOOTH  AT  TAMWORTH  FAIR 

FAIR  time  came,  and  it  was  as  the  dame  had 
foreseen ;  the  whole  round  of  the  place  had 
word  of  a  handsome   face  at  the  Greene 
Shippe,  and  money  in  the  till  was  the  consequence. 

On  the  Thursday,  Jess  got  leave  that  she  and  Pam 
should  have  the  afternoon  for  their  fairing ;  so,  with 
Jock  at  their  heels,  they  sped  to  where  the  booths 
swaggered  in  the  wind. 

Here  were  fiddles  shrieking,  drums  thumping,  fifes 
scraping,  trumpets  blowing,  bagpipes  wheezing; 
here  was  Whittington  with  his  immortal  cat,  the  ani- 
mal kept  up  to  a  proper  show  of  enthusiasm  by  means 
of  a  small  boy  pulling  vigorously  at  its  tail  behind 
a  curtain.  Here  was  "  the  whole  play  of  the  foul 
Gunpowder  Plot,"  with  a  penny  pistol  doing  con- 
stant duty  for  the  vile  explosion.  On  all  sides,  in- 
deed, there  was  a  Babel  of  confused  sound,  showmen 
crying  the  charms  of  their  conflicting  wonders.  "  The 

10 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  11 

merry-go-round,  a  ha'penny  up  and  down  the  circle: 
who  rides?  who  rides?  A  learned  pig  that  knows  the 
alphabet;  a  gentleman  that  eats  fire  by  the  yard;  a 
calf  with  six  legs.  Here's  the  elephant  that  shoots 
a  gun ;  a  leopard  that  hath  no  spots ;  the  Ark  of  the 
size  of  life,  with  all  the  animals  by  pairs  together, 
and  Noah  and  his  family  in  the  garments  they  wore ; 
Angels  ringing  seven  bells,  floating  in  the  air  as  by 
magic;  a  double  prospect  of  a  palace  in  the  Sun; 
Dives  rising  out  of  Hell,  besides  several  figures 
dancing  jigs,  sarabands,  and  minuets  to  the  admira- 
tion of  all.  The  giant  out  of  Norway  that  hath  per- 
formed before  their  gracious  Majesties;  the  merry 
conceit  of  Sir  John  Spendall;  the  excellent  tumbling 
feats  of  the  French  Monsieur ;  the  wonderful  puppets 
patronised  by  the  Prince  and  Princess ;  cocks  fighting 
day  and  night ;  the  destruction  of  Troy ;  a  very  ex- 
traordinary foreign  cat  with  two  tails ;  the  exact 
likeness  of  Solomon's  temple  in  shellwork ;  and  Mr. 
Figg,  the  greatest  of  all  fighters,  against  Ann 
Cowles,  ass-driver." 

Jess  volubly  told  off  all  these  marvels  to  Pam,  who 
listened  quietly,  half-dazed  by  the  strange  sights. 
The  girl  had  never  seen  the  like  before;  she  had  led 
the  wild,  free  life  of  the  open  seas,  the  caves,  the 


12  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

woods,  with  but  infrequent  sojourns  in  country  vil- 
lages. 

As  the  music  played  twenty  merry  measures  in 
and  out  her  ears,  as  Jess  chattered  and  giggled  in  her 
rustic  fashion,  Pam's  heart  beat  more  quickly.  She 
felt  the  blood  surge  up  to  her  throat  and  sweep  over 
her  face;  she  leaned  a  little  in  the  flaps  of  a  booth 
entrance,  and  bade  Jess  and  Jock  go  on  and  leave  her 
there. 

'Twas  the  biggest  booth  in  the  fair,  with  gaudy 
signs  and  banners  fluttering  before  it,  setting  forth 
what  was  within: 

"  Temple  of  Folly,  Wisdom,  and  the  Muses,  by 
Mr.  Doddington  Heathcote  (of  the  Covent  Garden). 
During  the  time  of  Tamworth  Fair  will  be  acted  a 
diverting  Droll  called  *  Belinda,  the  Gamester's 
Daughter,'  with  alternations  consisting  of  Scots  bal- 
lades, tunes,  French  dancing,  never  performed  here 
before.  The  Booth  is  most  commodious  for  the  qual- 
ity and  others;  and  shall  perform  every  day,  begin- 
ning exactly  at  two  and  continuing  every  hour  till 
eleven  at  night.  Music  of  the  best.  Right  Lincoln 
ale.  Admission  of  a  shilling  to  the  ordinary." 

The  corner  of  the  great  banner  touched  Pam's 
shoulder  where  she  stood  trembling,  lips  apart,  great, 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  13 

splendid  eyes  dilating,  not  at  all  the  marvels  it  set 
forth,  for  poor  Pam  could  not  read  a  letter,  but  at 
the  witching  strains  of  the  music. 

Pam  had  never  heard  music  before,  save  the  wild 
sea  songs  of  her  kind ;  and  as  water  rises  to  its  level, 
so  surely  rose  her  youth  and  yearning  to  greet  the 
message  the  strings  and  reeds  brought  her.  She 
clasped  her  arms  across  her  breast  as  if  to  hug  to 
her  all  the  unspeakable  joy  and  mirth  of  these  strains 
that  smote  her.  She  felt  herself  born  anew  into  some 
kingdom  hitherto  unimagined.  Illimitable,  unfath- 
omable, magnificent  stretched  before  her  fancy  some 
mighty  world  of  which  she  had  her  first  hint  as  she 
stood  before  the  players'  booth  at  Tamworth. 

No  matter  what  had  gone  before,  this  sound  call- 
ing at  the  very  portal  of  her  young  heart  assured  her 
that  there  was  a  future,  and  that  it  and  she  must 
meet,  and  make  together  of  life  something  other  than 
the  drudgery  it  looked  to  be  now.  She  knew  she  was 
outside  of  it  all  yet ;  the  music  told  her  that ;  but  it 
told  her,  too,  that  she  was  at  the  very  threshold ;  that 
she  had  but  to  knock,  and  some  great  personage, 
some  elf  would  let  her  in.  In  her  way,  Pam  was 
already  a  poet — without  words,  rhymes,  reasons,  or 
any  lore  of  the  world  or  its  men. 


14  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

She  turned,  and  rapped  at  the  entrance,  pulled  the 
flapping  canvas  to  one  side,  and  smiled  up  at  the  man 
who  stood  there  in  dusty  greatcoat  and  beaver  bon- 
net. 

There  was  such  inquiry,  such  demand  for  welcome 
in  her  face  as  would  have  melted  a  heart  of  stone; 
the  man  was  watching  two  urchins  peeping  at  the 
side,  and  only  said  gruffly,  putting  out  his  hand : 

"  A  shilling,  lass,  a  shilling." 

The  band  stopped  suddenly ;  and  not  less  suddenly 
Pam  came  back  to  the  every-day  world. 

"  I've  not  that,"  she  said  wistfully,  with  a  step 
backward. 

"  Damn  ye,  then !  What,  the  devil !  "  Mr.  Dod- 
dington  Heathcote  caught  sight  of  Pam's  face,  and 
came  to  a  full  pause.  Off  went  his  beaver,  and 
he  stepped  out  to  her,  speaking  in  a  strangely  differ- 
ent voice.  "  I  ask  your  pardon  humbly ;  if  you'll 
step  inside,  no  matter  as  to  the  shilling.  I'm  Heath- 
cote." 

He  drew  himself  up  with  dignity;  but  it  was  lost 
on  Pam.  "  Is't  your  musickers  within,  sir? "  she 
asked  simply. 

"  Yes,  the  very  same  that  play  in  Covent  Garden 
before  their  Royal  Highnesses.  Enter,  I  pray  you, 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  15 

and  witness  the  Droll.  Anon  they  will  begin.  'Tis 
worth  a  sovereign,  I  swear." 

"  Will  the  musickers  be  at  it  again?  " 

"  That  they  will,"  he  answered,  drawing  her  inside, 
and  putting  her  into  a  seat. 

"  You  are  sure  I'm  welcome  at  your  house, 
sir  ? "  asked  Pam,  staring  about  her,  and  content 
when  she  spied  the  fiddlers  and  heard  a  preparatory 
scrape. 

"  Most  sure,"  he  answered  with  a  bow,  leaving  her 
to  turn  to  one  of  his  company,  and  whisper :  "  Gad's 
life,  Peter  Twiss !  There's  a  face  for  ye !  If  I  quit 
Tamworth  Fair  this  year  lacking  that  girl  to  my 
dramatis  personce,  call  me  a  knave  as  well  as  the  fool 
everybody  knows  me  to  be!  She'd  set  the  town  by 
the  ears.  She'd  smile  and  the  sun  would  shine 
through  the  worst  fog  London  ever  saw;  she'd  sigh, 
and,  egad!  there's  not  a  man  of  the  ton  that  would 
not  set  himself  the  task  of  humouring  her  whim. 
Zounds,  Peter,  the  luck's  mine.  Not  for  naught  did 
I  put  on  my  coat  wrong  side  out  last  night !  " 

"  Nay,"  quoth  Peter  composedly,  "  'twas  only  be- 
cause you  were  as  drunk  as  a  lord!  Yet  the  maid  is 
fair,  and  hath  a  something,  je  ne  sals  quoi,  as  the 
French  have  it,  to  her  mien.  But,  sir,  a  lout  doubt- 


16  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

less,  after  all's  said  and  done.  I'll  wager  she  knows 
not  her  letters  yet,  and  has  had  more  communion  with 
swine  than  with  Terpsichore  and  Melpomene." 

But  now  the  band  began  a  tune  so  delicate,  so 
pleading,  and  so  full  of  all  heavenly  sweetness  as, 
indeed,  might  well  cause  one  to  wonder  that  such  a 
company  could  evoke  it. 

Heathcote  and  Peter  Twiss  looked  at  Pam.  Her 
eyes  danced  with  a  new  joy.  As  the  measure  quick- 
ened they  saw  her  little  feet  beating  time  beneath 
her  pink  kirtle,  then  her  hands  moving  palm  to  palm 
upon  her  breast,  and  a  sigh  as  of  some  pent-up  rap- 
ture bursting  softly  through  her  lips. 

Heathcote  from  behind  bent  above  her  shoulder. 

"  Thou  lik'st  it,  child?" 

"  Oh,  sir,"  whispered  she,  taking  in  her  sweet  un- 
der lip  between  her  teeth,  "  'tis  of  a  surety  most 
beautiful!  And  this  house,"  gazing  around  at  the 
tawdry  players'  booth,  inhaling  the  musty  odours  of 
the  flopping  scenes,  the  new  paint,  the  dripping  can- 
dles, as  'twere  odours  from  Araby  the  blest,  "  this 
house,  it  seems  to  me's  the  only  one  I  ever  entered 
where  I  can  breathe  free,  as  I  breathe  at  sea — and 
on  the  sea  was  once  my  home." 

Heathcote,  worldling  though  he  was,  and  mummer 


PAMELA  CONGREVE  17 

to  the  soul,  yet  still  a  man,  whole-hearted,  generous, 
stood  silent  for  a  moment. 

Then  he  muttered  fervently  to  Peter  at  his  elbow: 
"  Gad !  the  girl's  born  for  the  stage.  Again,  I  say, 
what  luck  I  changed  not  my  coat  last  night,  but  kept 
it  wrong  side  out !  " 

"  You  mean,  sir,"  said  Peter  respectfully,  yet  with- 
drawing a  pace,  "  what  luck  you  drank  so  deep !  " 


CHAPTER  III 

WHILE    THE    TIDE    SLIPPED    OUT 

WHEN  Pam  left  the  players'  booth,  she 
had  entirely  forgotten  Jess  and  Jock; 
but  they  had  thought  of  her,  and  came 
pushing  in  by  the  side  entrance  at  sixpence  when  they 
had  learned  from  some  other  maids  and  men  of  her 
whereabouts.  Just  as  they  went  in,  ushered  by  Peter, 
out  walked  Pam  by  the  other  door,  Heathcote  missing 
her,  to  his  deep  chagrin,  as  he  perforce  waited  upon 
quality  driving  up  in  their  coaches.  Yet  he  consoled 
himself,  for  he  had  learned  that  she  was  in  service  at 
the  Greene  Shippe,  and  thither  he  proposed  to  move 
himself  and  his  company  from  their  present  quarters 
at  the  Blue  Pigeon. 

Pam  came  out  upon  the  street  just  as  twilight  was 
misting  up  the  hollows  below  the  village.  As  she 
walked  along  among  the  jostling  throng,  shouting, 
laughing,  merry-making  the  more  at  each  candle  and 
fish-oil  lamp  that  was  lighted,  she  was  murmuring  to 
herself :  "  I  be  a  new  lass.  I  ben't  myself  no  more.  I 

18 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  19 

walk  not  on  the  pave,  but  on  the  air;  my  shoes  don't 
touch  earth,  but  skim  it  as  the  gulls  skim  the  sea 
over  against  the  coasts  of  the  Islands." 

She  turned  aside  from  the  gay  fair  into  a  green 
and  narrow  lane  that  led  down  between  the  cliffs  to 
the  dunes  and  to  a  pathway  to  the  shore.  Presently, 
it  was  silent  enough  where  she  stood,  shading  her  eyes 
with  her  hand  and  looking  off  into  the  dim  distance. 
There  came  to  her  the  echo  of  the  mountebanks'  cries, 
the  screeching  of  monkeys  and  parrots,  the  shouts 
of  the  crowd,  but  not  even  a  hint  of  the  music;  this 
was  drowned  out  by  the  lungs  of  the  rabble. 

Yet  within  her  heart  the  fiddles  still  played  on, 
the  lutes,  the  viols,  and  the  flutes  still  twanged;  for 
her  all  the  harmonies  of  heaven  resounded  as  she  went 
on  down  between  the  cliffs,  where  the  castle  frowned 
above,  and  the  sea  swirled  below. 

Once  at  the  edge  of  the  waters,  free  in  her  gait,  and 
swift  as  a  young  deer,  she  strode  along  the  smooth 
sand  to  the  great  pile  of  rocks  a  mile  southward, 
next  to  Chilton,  where  the  Smugglers'  Cave  may  be 
seen  to  this  day.  The  little  bay  gained,  Pam  paused 
at  the  curve,  took  off  her  shoes  and  stockings,  tied 
them  together,  slung  them  over  her  shoulders,  and 
waded  into  the  shallows.  The  tide  was  going  out. 


20  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

She  went  as  far  as  the  slip  of  a  stream  that  made  an 
inlet  to  the  cave,  by  which,  at  high-water,  a  small 
boat  could  pass  in,  though  there  were  few  that  dared 
the  adventure. 

Pam  waded  to  where  the  swell  and  boil  began  at 
the  neck  of  the  little  channel,  the  sea  subsiding  every 
moment,  so  that  already  the  rocks  were  out  of  water. 
She  lay  down  on  them  and  looked  up  at  the  sky; 
just  a  star  or  two  gemming  the  deep  arch  overhead; 
a  slip  of  a  new-born  moon  near  them ;  the  drip  of  the 
damps  at  the  cave's  mouth,  the  plash  of  the  receding 
tide  at  her  side. 

"  God  A'mighty !  "  whispered  she.  "  The  sea's 
fine,  and  the  smell  of  the  salt's  strong  as  meat  to  a 
hungry  mouth;  and  the  sky's  broad  and  good  for  a 
roof;  and  the  rocks  is  as  soft  a  bed  as  a  maid  could 
wish  for  when  she's  tired ;  and  I  loves  it  all,  all ;  and 
I've  come  out  here  to  speak  my  thoughts,  because  's 
there's  no  one  else  as  cares.  But  I'm  takin'  oath, 
do  'ee  hear  me?  'Ee  and  mother  both  somew'eres, 
where  'ee  be?  I'm  takin'  oath  never  to  rest  until  him 
as  swung  is  righted,  till  him  as  got  off  free  drinks 
sorrow's  cup.  Cost  what  it  may,  Pam  '11  do  't ;  she 
don't  know  how ;  she  can't  tell,  but  she'll  do  't.  Some- 
thing she's  learned  to  love  better  'n  sea  and  sky,  and 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  21 

man  or  woman,  will  help  her  to  it;  an'  that's  the 
music.  What  don't  it  say  to  a  body?  There  ain't 
nothin'  it  don't  speak  about ;  things  I  knows  of ; 
things  I  don't.  And  that  house  where  the  musickers 
live,  la !  that's  the  house  for  me."  And  all  the  while 
she  whispered  to  herself,  babbling  brokenly  as  a  babe, 
flurrying  the  water  with  her  bare  feet,  her  hands 
over  her  head,  clasping  the  dews,  and  curling  her 
long,  dark  locks  the  closer,  Pam  heard  the  fiddles 
calling  and  entreating  at  her  ears. 

Lying  there  in  the  gathering  gloom,  with  no  living 
thing  near  her  but  some  few  small  fishes  and  a  sea- 
bird  skimming  to  its  nest ;  listening  to  the  memories  of 
the  strings  and  reeds  of  Heathcote's  orchestra,  there 
came  to  her  soul  that  one  splendid  moment  that  ar- 
rives for  even  the  most  sordid  of  us  some  time  in 
our  journey — the  moment  when  we  know  we  are 
immortal  by  the  token,  not  only  of  the  longing  that 
is  in  us,  but  by  the  infinite  assurance  that  crowds 
away  all  our  fears  and  follies,  and  tells  us  we  can  be, 
do,  and  have  all  that  aspiration  bids  us  crave. 

Pam,  indeed,  was  not  on  earth;  she  was  for  the 
space  of  a  second  or  so  in  that  other  place  where 
each  one's  treasure  lies  hid,  the  goal  that  each  one 
tries  for,  blindly  though  it  may  often  be. 


CHAPTER  IV 

"  POSIES  !  POSIES  !      WILL  YE  HAVE  MY  POSIES  ?  " 

A  midnight,  after  the  last  performance  was 
over  at  the  booth,   Heathcote  and   the 
principal  members  of  his  troupe  arrived, 
bag  and  baggage,  in  two  carters'  wagons,  at  the  Inn. 
"  I  tell  ye,  Peter,"  cried  Master  Doddington,  while 
Pam  and  Jess  had  gone  to  draw  their  ale,  "  I  like 
the  fair  one,  too,  wliat  d'ye  call  her?     Jess?     We 
need  new  faces  to  entice  the  dandies  to  the  pit,  and  a 
brace  like  these  '11  fill  the  bill." 

"  Damme,  sir ! "  whispered  Peter,  his  round  coun- 
tenance half  hid  in  his  mug,  "  look  you  at  that 
girl,  Pam.  She's  got  the  poise  of  a  Venus  and  the 
arms  of  a  nymph,  the  eyes  of  a  Cleopatra,  the  smile 

of  a  Circe,  the " 

"  Hold  your  tongue !  "  cried  Heathcote.  "  None 
of  your  cursed  interfering  compliments.  Pam's  my 
find,  and,  by  Heavens !  never  saw  I  lady  sitting  under 
crown  or  coronet  to  compare  with  her.  Go  flatter 

22 


PAMELA  CONGREVE  23 

Jess  an*  you  will,  Peter  Twiss,  comedian  and  heavy 
father,  but  not  one  of  your  smooth  words  in  the  dark 
girl's  ear,  d'ye  hear?  " 

As  he  finished  this  peremptory  adjuration,  the 
girls  came  back,  and  Jess,  released  from  the  watchful 
eye  of  Mistress  Dormer,  began  to  trip  about  the 
brick  floor,  dusting  Peter  Twiss  with  a  brush,  and 
puffing  at  his  goodly  proportions  with  the  bellows. 
Others  besides  the  players  were  there,  and  Pam,  and 
Moll,  and  Marian  were  all  kept  busy  until  the  small 
hours. 

Heathcote  and  Mistress  Meg  Kent,  his  principal 
woman  player,  never  ceased  morning  and  night,  when 
they  were  at  the  Inn,  from  picturing  to  Pam  and  Jess 
the  joys  of  a  mummer's  life,  the  splendid  vision  of 
London  town.  Neither  girl  was  to  be  quite  per- 
suaded, although  now  the  day  had  come  when,  the 
fair  ending,  the  company  of  renowned  players  should 
start  for  London  in  the  coach. 

"  Pour  away,  Jess,  one  for  yourself,  lass,"  said 
Heathcote,  as  he  leaned  over  the  counter. 

"  Thank  'ee  heartily,  Master  Heathcote,"  cries 
she,  smacking  her  lips. 

"  Here's  to  bright  eyes  and  a  good  brew !  Say 
you're  going  up  to  London  to-night  with  Meg  and 


24  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

me  and  the  rest  of  us  ?  Hath  not  fat  Peter  persuaded 
you?  " 

Jess  dallied  with  her  toby,  woman-fashion,  and 
laughed  as  Meg  came  in,  her  arms  full  of  bandboxes, 
wig-cases,  and  all  the  trappings  of  her  art. 

"  Lud ! "  cried  she,  "  neither  Jess  nor  Pamela 
should  need  more  of  urging,  for  you've  been  at  'em 
ever  since  we  came  here  a  fortnight  ago!  For  my 
part,  if  country  hussies  want  to  stop  in  villages  and 
milk  cows  when  they're  invited  up  to  town  to  become 
the  idols  of  the  ton,  why,  Doddington,  let  'em !  " 

"  He  do  say,"  says  Jess,  "  a  new  face  or  two  is 
needin'  to  entice  the  dandies  to  the  pit  and  overreach 
the  Italian  young  ladies  what's  dancin'  at  Drury 
Lane." 

"  He's  right.  And  if  you  had  a  grain  of  sense 
you'd  come,  both  of  ye.  Heathcote's  a  fool  to  have 
wasted  his  time  here  this  fortnight  gone,  a-teachin' 
you  and  t'other  one  how  to  dance ;  how  to  curtsey ; 
how  to  ogle ;  how  to  languish ;  how  to  swoon !  "  And 
Mistress  Meg,  laughing  fit  to  kill  herself,  suited  ac- 
tion of  the  best  to  each  word  and  wound  up  by  falling 
into  the  extended  arms  of  Peter  Twiss,  equipped  for 
his  journey  in  a  broad  beaver  hat  and  a  wrap-rascal 
down  to  his  heels. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  25 

"  Say,  ye'll  come,  Jess,  girl ! "  cries  Peter,  con- 
signing Mistress  Meg,  bonnet  and  veil  awry,  to  the 
hair-cloth  sofa,  and  twitching  the  toby  from  Jess's 
hands,  the  polishing-cloth  from  where  it  hung  at  her 
apron  string. 

"  No  more  rubbing  and  scrubbing  for  thee,  lass, 
if  thou'lt  come  with  Master  Heathcote's  company  of 
strollers ! "  And  the  portly  Peter  seized  Jess  about 
the  waist. 

"  Gallants,  feasting,  clapping !  "  cried  Heathcote, 
beating  his  palms  together ;  "  I'll  teach  thee  all  the 
steps  in  a  twinkle.  So,  Peter,  lead  her  up,  fa!  la! 
la !  la !  "  He  swung  into  the  time  of  a  country  dance 
as  Twiss,  clasping  the  laughing  and  buxom  Jess, 
footed  it  nimbly  up  and  down,  Heathcote  and  Meg 
following  suit,  merry  as  kittens. 

"  Say  thou'lt  go,  fairest  of  women ! "  gasped 
Peter,  tossing  off  his  beaver. 

"  I'll  go,"  cried  Jess ;  "  an'  Pam  goes,  there !  " 

Heathcote  stopped  short,  and  dropped  Meg  where 
he  stood.  His  face  grew  pale,  and  his  next  words 
came  low  and  earnestly.  "  If  she  joins  us,  my  for- 
tune's made,  and  more !  " 

"  Ho !  "  cried  Meg  scornfully.  "  'Tis  a  ninny 
knows  not  what  way  the  wind  blows  when  it  smites 


26  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

him  in  the  face !  Take  that,  sirrah ! "  She  dealt 
him  a  sounding  box  on  the  ear.  "  And  let  me  tell 
ye,  the  whole  of  Tamworth  knows  you're  over  head 
and  heels  in  love  with  one  that  but's  a  barmaid,  and 
for  aught  all  of  you  know  a  gipsy ;  no  name  to  her 
most  unchristian  cognomen  of " 

"  Damn  ye,  Meg !  "  Heathcote  flashed  out.  "  Keep 
a  civil  tongue  in  your  head,  or  go  find  yourself  a 
place  in  Drury  Lane  or  the  Haymarket.  I  swear 
Covent  Garden  won't  hold  you  and  me,  if  you  repeat 
what  you  said  just  now  of  Pamela  Congreve." 

"  '  Congreve,'  forsooth !  '  Congreve ! '  "  echoed  the 
actress,  with  intonation  of  superb  contempt.  "  How 
long  since?  I'll  wager  a  guinea  to  a  ha'penny,  chris- 
tened on  the  spot  by  Master  Doddington  Heathcote ! 
Hither,  Jess,  girl.  What's  Pamela's  other  name?  Is 
it  Congreve,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  know  not,"  returned  Jess  truthfully,  but  ready 
to  stand  up  for  her  friend.  "  Belike  'tis  as  Master 
Heathcote  says.  Pam's  more  apt  to  have  confided 
in  him  than  in  me.  Pam's  up  above  me — but  none 
the  less  I  love  her !  " 

"  Up  above  you  ?  "  sneers  Meg.  "  What  d'ye 
mean  ?  How  d'ye  know  ?  " 

A     melodramatic     whisper     came     from     Peter. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  27 

"  Zounds !       Have    we     a     stolen     heiress     in     our 
midst?  " 

"What  d'ye  mean,  Jess,  my  lass?"  said  Heath- 
cote  quietly. 

"  Hist ! "  replied  Jess,  looking  about  her,  finger 
on  lips.  "  It's  a  month  and  more  agone  now,  one 
morning  at  dawn,  as  I  comes  down,  I  finds  her 
crouchin'  on  the  doorstep,  wet  to  the  skin,  white  as 
a  candle,  heart  a-goin'  like  spent  rabbit's.  I  fed, 
and  warmed,  and  dried  her;  put  on  her  some  o'  my 
duds ;  took  her  up  to  my  loft,  and  afterwards  made 
it  up  to  Mistress  Dormer  as  she  were  a  friend  of  my 
folk  from  the  Islands.  Lawk !  Pam  mayn't  be  qual- 
ity, but  there's  summat  in  her  mind  as  ain't  in  mine." 

"  Bah !  "  cried  Meg.     "  A  false  lover,  most  like." 

"  '  Lover ! '  "  muttered  Heathcote,  biting  his  lips, 
and  instinctively  laying  his  hand  on  his  sword-hilt. 
"  Nay,  nay !  but  I  dare  be  sworn,  if  I  take  her  up  to 
London,  she'll  be  the  toast  of  every  coffee-house  there 
in  less  than  a  twelvemonth !  " 

"  Aye,"  quoth  Peter  Twiss,  "  my  Lord  Charteris 
and  Mr.  Beauclerc  would  soon  set  the  seal  that  would 
send  her  swimming  where  the  pearls  and  diamonds 
lie." 

"  Charteris !  the  most  damnable  rake  in  England, 


28  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

the  worst  gamester  in  Christendom!  Bracket  not 
those  two  names,  hers  and  his,  together.  Hark !  " 

"  Whose  voice  is  that  now  ?  "  asked  Mistress  Meg, 
inclining  an  ear,  while  all  eyes  turned  towards  the 
Inn  yard. 

"  It's  Pam's,"  whispered  Jess. 

"  Pam's ! "  Heathcote  repeated,  as  he  darted  up 
to  the  archway  and  stood  to  listen.  "  Pam's,"  he 
said  again  to  himself,  "  and  singing  the  song  I 
taught  her  by  my  fiddle  last  Sunday." 

Nearer,  sweeter,  higher,  clearer  rose  the  mirthful 
freshness  of  her  voice ;  in  its  lilt,  hint  of  the  splendid 
freedom  and  breadth  of  the  sea,  hint  of  untamable, 
joyful  spirits,  hint  of  the  heritage  of  sorrow;  glow 
of  youth  and  hope,  and  blessed,  blessed  ignorance  of 
all  a  future  might  hold. 

"  Posies !    Posies ! 
Will  ye  have  my  posies? 
Spangled  with  dew  drops: 
As  sweet  as  the  spring: 
Some  for  the  Queen— oh! 
And  some  for  the  King! 

Roses !     Roses ! 
With  a  fa-la-la-la-la. 
Will  you  have  my  posies? 
Some  for  the  scullion 
And  some  for  the  King! 

"  Posies !    Posies ! 
Violets  and  roses " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  29 

In  came  Pam  from  the  yard,  a  tray  of  candle- 
sticks balanced  on  her  head,  a  pair  of  snuffers  in  her 
hand,  with  which  she  beat  vigorous  time  on  her  tray, 
a  smile  of  mischief  and  irrepressible  witchery  on  her 
lips.  Heathcote  darted  across  to  her,  his  own  eyes 
catching  fire  from  hers.  Mistress  Meg,  who  was 
never  one-half  the  jealous  hussy  she  would  pretend 
to  be,  but  generous  to  the  heart,  snatched  the  poker 
and  shovel,  and  fell  into  time  with  Pam's  music,  while 
Jess  clashed  a  couple  of  mugs  together,  and  Peter 
Twiss,  not  to  be  outdone,  seized  a  pair  of  bandboxes, 
and,  with  merry  shouts,  added  his  share  to  the  gen- 
eral hubbub.  Even  off  the  boards  your  stroller  can- 
not forget  his  vocation ;  he  never  loses  his  chance  to 
act ;  the  offer  of  a  situation,  or  a  picture,  or  a  climax 
is  always  irresistible  to  him.  Heathcote,  with  his 
heart  burning  up  for  love  of  Pam ;  Twiss,  ingulfed 
in  fat ;  Meg,  her  envy  smouldering  below  the  surface, 
all  joined  in  the  tempest  of  making  part  and  parcel 
of  this  accident,  wherein  each  recognised  at  once  an 
"  effective  entrance." 

Pam  laughed  as  she  came  over  to  the  bar. 

"  By  Gad !  "  says  Heathcote.  "  Let  the  King  get 
a  peep  at  those  little  feet,  hear  that  laugh,  and  every 
other  lady  at  Court  may  go  hide  her  head !  " 


30  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

She  tossed  the  snuffers  over  to  him  where  he  stood, 
and  he  caught  them,  with  his  gaze  still  upon  her 
face. 

"  Am  I  an  apt  scholar,  Master  Heathcote?  Have 
I  the  right  trip  to  my  tongue  with  your  song  as  you 
showed  me  ?  " 

"  Faith,  Pam,  you've  caught  the  lingo  and  the  air 
as  though  you  had  been  at  the  business  all  your 
life!" 

"  Yet  have  I  not,  although  'tis  in  my  blood  to  feel 
it  natural,  nor  any  stranger  do  I  seem  to  be  to  all 
you've  taught  me,"  she  answered,  with  sparkling 
eyes. 

"  Where  were  you  born,  Pamela  ?  "  inquired  Mis- 
tress Meg. 

"  In  a  boat." 

"  And  there,  mayhap,  Pam,  you  left  a  lover? 
Mistress  Meg  says  so,"  Jess  put  in  curiously. 

"  Aye,"  cried  Meg,  "  I  always  stake  my  money  a 
girl  has  a  lover  tucked  up  her  sleeve,  if  he  be  not  seen 
tied  outside  of  it." 

Then  she  turned,  and,  catching  sight  of  the  strewn 
bits  of  her  bandboxes,  her  fallals  all  scattered,  Peter 
on  his  hands  and  knees  struggling  to  collect  them, 
she  uttered  a  piercing  shriek,  and  fell  upon  the  pros- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  31 

trate  comedian  with  her  fan,  and  fists,  and  tongue — 
as  pretty  an  assortment  of  oaths  as  ever  came  from 
a  pretty  mouth,  and  trundled  Master  Peter  out  of 
the  place,  repentant,  howling,  as  if  he  had  been  the 
barrel  which,  in  truth,  he  greatly  resembled. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE    DANCING    LESSON 

WHILE  Jess  joined  the  jollity  and  scram- 
ble, Heathcote  found  time  to  whisper 
to  Pam,  where  she  sat  on  the  end 
of  the  counter: 

"  Pamela,  did  you  leave  a  lover  yonder  over  sea  ?> " 

"  If  I  did,  sir,  I'd  like  to  see  him  here  and  now,"  the 
girl  answered,  sobered  and  setting  down  her  tray 
beside  her. 

"  Behold  one  that  worships  you  ten  times  that 
other's  sum,  whoe'er  he  be,"  said  Heathcote,  catching 
at  her  hand.  Half  startled,  she  smiled,  with  a  small 
pitying  sigh,  faint  precursor  of  what  should  come 
to  many  another  man  than  Master  Heathcote  of 
Co  vent  Garden. 

"  Pam,"  he  went  on,  taking  her  by  the  wrists,  and 
looking  down  into  her  great  uplifted,  mirthful  eyes, 
"  I  am  no  fool  to  be  mocked  at.  Child,  I  love  thee ! 
love  thee!" 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  33 

"  Bah,  Master  Heathcote !  "  said  she,  snatching  her 
hand  away,  and  thwacking  her  tray  and  candlesticks 
until  they  rang,  calling  Jess  back  from  the  archway, 
where  she  had  been  watching  Twiss  and  Meg.  "  Up ! 
Show  me  again  the  jig  'ee  learned  me  yesterday,  as 
'tis  danced  in  your  theayter." 

"  Theayter !  theayter ! "  shouted  Jess,  pouring  a 
mug  apiece,  and  waving  hers  overhead.  "  That's 
the  tune !  Drink  me  luck,  Pam ;  my  mind's  made  up, 
whatever  yours  is,  to  give  mistress  the  slip,  and  off 
with  Master  Heathcote  to  make  my  fortune  on  the 
boards ! " 

"  Well  said ! "  Heathcote  cried  approvingly,  as  he 
patted  Jess  on  the  shoulder.  "  'Tis  the  straight  road 
to  fortune ! " 

Pam  was  taken  aback.  "  Be  ye  in  earnest,  Jess?  " 
she  said,  her  eyes  now  round  and  serious. 

"  Aye,  I  be.  Ask  Meg ;  here  she  comes  back  after 
drubbing  Master  Twiss.  I  told  her  this  noon.  Don't 
dilly-dally." 

"  Pam ! "  Heathcote  once  again  prisoned  the 
girl's  hand  in  his.  "  I  swear  to  make  you  happy,  if 
you  come,  if " 

"  Tush,  dear  duck,"  now  put  in  Mistress  Meg, 
panting  from  her  exertions,  and  busily  engaged  in 


34  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

mending  and  stuffing  her  bandboxes.  "  Of  course, 
you'll  be  happy.  Two  pound  a  week  and  all  the  spy- 
glasses in  Piccadilly  levelled  at  your  face.  Nothing 
to  be  at  but  laugh,  sing,  drink,  eat !  " 

"  No  thinkin'  to  do? "  asked  Pamela,  her  eyes 
turned  rather  on  Heathcote  than  on  Meg  Kent. 

"  Lud !  "  laughed  the  vivacious  actress,  "  no  time 
for  thinking  there ! "  She  pulled  at  a  refractory 
string;  it  broke,  and  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  Peter 
slily  laughing  at  her  discomfiture  in  the  yard.  In  a 
moment  she  was  up  and  off  to  belabour  him  again, 
and  Jess  darted  after  her  to  see  the  sport. 

"  Ain't  there  no  time  there,  Master  Heathcote? 
Be  't  as  Mistress  Meg  says  ?  "  The  stroller  met  her 
eyes  and  sighed.  "  Because  if  it's  so,  I  can't  go  with 
'ee.  I  must  think.  I  have  summat  to  think  on. 
Whether  I  can  puzzle  it  out  better  driftin'  wi'  'ee 
yonder  or  stoppin'  here,  I  don't  know." 

"  Ah,  Pam,"  cried  Heathcote.  "  Wha*  matters 
aught  else  in  life  but  love !  What  have  you  to  puzzle 
out  or  think  of?  S'life,  sweetest  heart,  I'll  teach  thee 
to  think  only  of  thy  Doddington !  "  He  tried  to  put 
his  arm  about  her,  when  down  slipped  his  fiddle  from 
the  counter. 

Pamela  drew  away  from  him.     "  Pick  up  your 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  35 

fiddle,  Master  Heathcote.  Talk  not  to  me  of  hearts 
or  love,  or  any  such  as  that.  Nay ! "  She  caught 
up  the  bow  from  the  case,  and  warded  him  off  with 
it,  laughing,  all  the  seriousness  now  gone  from  her 
wonderful  eyes ;  they  sparkled  and  danced  as  if  each 
one  prisoned  the  soul  of  a  glittering  elusive  elf. 
Such  transitions,  from  the  borderland  of  tears  to  the 
wildest  gaiety,  were  Pam's  portion,  the  vague  heri- 
tage of  her  first  rocking  on  the  ever-changeful 
sea. 

"  Here !  "  She  threw  him  the  bow,  which  he  caught 
dexterously.  "  Pick  out  the  jig  tune,  and  I  will  trip 
the  measure,  so's  I  get  it  perfect  while  missus  tarries 
in  the  yard." 

Heathcote  tucked  his  instrument  under  his  chin, 
and  began. 

He  played  an  air  gay  as  a  flock  of  thistledown, 
blown  hither  and  yon  by  the  wind,  gay  as  the  first 
song  of  a  bird  in  the  wooing  time  of  the  year,  gay  as 
the  throb  of  spring's  first  rising  of  the  sap  in  the 
twig,  as  the  pulse  of  youth  when  the  adoring  glance 
of  a  swain  knocks  at  a  maid's  heart;  gay  as  the 
waters  must  be  when  they  reflect  a  fair  face.  It  was 
called,  "  When  Phyllis  would  a-shopping  go,"  and 
the  author  of  it  was  Surrey  Beauclerc. 


36  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Pamela  danced  slowly  at  first,  as  fitted  the  time 
the  player  gave,  with  small,  grave,  studious  airs,  her 
apron  held  out  wide  betwixt  forefingers  and  thumbs 
at  each  side,  her  curls  scarcely  bobbing,  her  cheeks 
but  pinkish,  as  the  inner  parts  of  a  shell. 

"  Show  me,"  said  she.    "  Is't  so  I'll  cross?  " 

"  Aye,"  he  answered,  coming  to  her,  and,  as  he 
played,  giving  her  the  example  of  the  steps;  then 
back  to  the  table,  sitting  on  its  edge,  his  bow  flying 
faster  than  at  first. 

In  came  Jess  and  Meg  to  loll  upon  the  counter  and 
fill  their  tobies  over  again,  while  Peter  and  the  rest 
hovered  about  the  archway. 

"  Lack-a-day,  Master  Heathcote !  "  cried  Pam,  not 
knowing  any  were  near  but  her  teacher.  "  There's 
sprites  in  your  bow.  I  feel  'em  kickin'  in  my 
heels!" 

Faster  sped  his  bow  across  the  strings,  and  faster 
flew  the  dancer's  feet;  her  demure  scholar's  mien  all 
gone,  her  eyes  wide,  flashing  luminous;  her  apron 
blown  out  by  her  swiftness  like  wings  upon  a  bird; 
her  curls  all  loosened,  hanging  long  and  floating  to 
her  hips ;  her  cheeks  as  red  as  poppies  in  the  sun ; 
her  lips  parted,  as  though  to  drink  in  eagerly  all  the 
happiness  that  earth  could  furnish  her. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  37 

Faster  flew  the  bow,  as  never  it  had  flown  before, 
even  when  the  player  was  drawing  it  for  the  King  in 
his  box,  and  faster  flew  Pam's  pretty  little  feet. 

"  Great  Jove,  girl !  "  he  gasped  at  last.  "  Thou'lt 
not  be  long  at  the  bottom  of  the  ladder  if  thou'lt 
come  with  me  to  London.  I'll  have  thee  playing 
Polly  Peachum  in  a  twelvemonth." 

Pam  heeded  little  what  he  said — she  scarcely  heard 
the  clappings  and  the  bravas  of  the  others  as  she 
danced  on,  Heathcote  playing  as  for  his  life.  She 
heard  the  sob  of  the  sea,  she  smelt  the  strength  of 
the  brine;  she  heard  a  voice  that  knew  how  to  coax, 
another  that  was  stilled  forever;  she  remembered  a 
kiss  on  her  cheek,  and  thought  of  a  day  when  a 
parting  came,  and  another  when  she  wished  she  was 
dead;  an  oath  she  had  taken,  and  would  keep,  rose 
before  her  mind ;  and  all  this  rosary  of  her  past  was 
strung  upon  the  witching  threads  of  the  future  that 
Master  Heathcote's  bow  was  weaving  for  her  to  the 
air  of  "  When  Phyllis  would  a-shopping  go." 

Could  any  fiddle-strings  keep  this  pace  up  longer 
and  not  crack?  Pamela  was  whirling,  twirling,  like 
something  not  human,  laughing,  too,  when  the 
player  suddenly  stopped,  his  arms  refusing  further 
strain. 


38  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Born  for  the  stage !  "  cried  Meg  and  Peter  Twiss 
at  once,  clasping  each  other  and  taking  a  few  lively 
steps. 

"How  high's  the  stage,  Master  Heathcote?" 
asked  Pamela,  shaking  back  her  curls  and  laughing 
at  his  weariness. 

"  I'll  show  thee !  "  His  fiddle  tucked  under  his  arm, 
his  bow  in  his  teeth,  the  player  swiftly  took  Pam 
about  the  waist,  and  lifted  her  up  on  the  counter. 
"  'Tis  as  high  as  that,  Pamela,  but  if  it  were  as  tall 
as  Olympus,  still  would'st  thou  mount  it  at  a 
bound!" 

And  on  the  strip  of  polished  counter  Pam  danced 
on,  faster,  faster,  furiously,  till  this  slip  of  woman- 
hood, spinning  there  in  the  fire's  flicker,  seemed  a 
dryad  springing  from  the  wood,  her  laughter  the 
mirth  of  some  being  other  than  human,  so  full  were 
its  notes  of  splendid  witchery  of  merriment,  winsome- 
ness,  and  careless  grace. 

"  Faster,  I  say !  "  she  cried,  catching  her  long  ring- 
lets out  in  either  hand,  the  glow  of  all  the  suns  that 
had  ever  kissed  her  face  glorifying  it. 

"  The  theayter !  That's  the  tune,"  Jess  shouted 
merrily.  "  The  theayter  forever !  " 

"  No  scrubbin',  and  rubbin',  and  servin'  there," 


"On  the  strip  of  polished  counter  Pam  danced  on.' 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  39 

shouts  Mistress  Kent,  seizing  the  polishing-cloth 
from  Jess's  hand  and  flinging  it  behind  the  coun- 
ter. 

"  No  missus  a-callin' !  No "  Jess  stopped 

abruptly,  as  the  sound  of  Mistress  Dormer's  voice 
from  without  cut  across  her  gaiety. 

"  William !  John  !  James !  Pam !  Jess !  Moll !  Marian ! 
Oliver !  Oliver,  I  say !  "  Heathcote  stopped.  Pam 
jumped  from  the  counter,  caught  up  a  broom,  and 
began,  mischievous  smiles  dimpling  in  the  corners  of 
her  mouth,  to  sweep  the  hearth  with  commendable 
diligence. 

Outside,  at  a  little  distance,  rose  such  a  clatter  and 
clash  of  wheels,  hoofs,  whip-cracks,  pretty  screams, 
resounding  oaths,  barking  of  dogs,  cackle  of  geese 
and  hens  as  would  have  raised  the  dead. 

"  Hey ! "  said  Heathcote  to  Peter,  mopping  his 
brow.  "  What's  the  racket  about  ?  " 

"La!"  whispered  Meg,  adjusting  her  bonnet 
strings.  "  Quality  arrived  in  a  post-chaise,  and  a 
fine  gentleman  or  two  for  me  to  ogle,  mayhap."  She 
peered  out,  and  jostled  against  Oliver  Dormer  com- 
ing in,  sleepy,  slow,  and  lagging,  the  perfect  com- 
plement of  his  ambitious  wife. 

"  Missus  is  awake,  lasses,  perhaps  'ee  didn't  know 


40  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

't,"  said  he,  jerking  his  thumb  toward  the  courtyard 
whence  the  dame  now  bustled  in. 

"  Lazy  hussies ! "  exclaimed  she,  pulling  in  her 
wake  the  terrified  Moll  and  Marian.  "  Pamela,  stop 
makin'  that  dust !  Jess,  light  up  every  candle.  Mar- 
ian, air  the  best  linen;  Moll,  go  tidy  your  locks. 
Oliver  Dormer!  porpoise!  call  the  boys.  Jock,  pile 
the  logs!  What  do  'ee  mean  a-standin'  starin'  like 
fuddled  sheep  at  shearin'  time  ?  "  The  dame  bestowed 
a  sound  thump  upon  her  spouse,  and  placed  the  bel- 
lows in  his  hands.  "  Blow !  I  tell  'ee,  blow !  A 
coach  full  of  frightened  quality  spilled  in  the  ditch 
at  the  turn  of  our  lane !  God  be  praised  it  was  not 
yet  filled  in  as  we  promised,  or  they  would  'a'  gone 
straight  to  the  Blue  Pigeon.  Oliver  Dormer,  stop 
blinkin'  like  an  owl  at  noonday.  Out  wi'  ye  to  wel- 
come 'em,  all  o'  ye !  We'll  make  show  of  our  men  and 
maids,  same  as  Dame  Piggot  at  the  Pigeon !  Out,  I 
say !  Pam,  to  the  fore — curtsey  down  to  the  ground. 
Jess,  drop  your  eyes  when  they  come." 

Out  they  trooped,  falling  into  line  with  the  habit 
of  years  of  discipline.  But  Pamela  hung  back. 


CHAPTER  VI 

TWO   STRINGS  HATH   LADY  BETTY  TO  HEE  BOW 


^"       ^^HE  coach  and  four  swung  into  Chilton, 

Sir   Thomas   Trevor's   travelling   coach. 

Inside  were  his  wife,  his  niece  and  ward 

Lady  Betty  Wyndham,  his  daughter  Kitty,  and  a 

brace    of    serving-women    atop,    with    a    couple    of 

gallants,    well-mounted,    riding    at    either    side    the 

wheels,   and   the   coachman   snapping   his   lash,   the 

guard    puffing    at    his    horn,    "  tra-la-la-la-laa-ee- 

oo-oo ! " 

"  Charteris,  is  not  this  Chilton? "  asked  Sir 
Thomas,  putting  his  head  out  of  the  window,  and 
looking  at  the  taller  of  the  two  horsemen,  as  hand- 
some a  young  nobleman  as  one  might  wish  to  see, 
were  it  not  for  the  traces  of  dissipation  graven  on 
his  features ;  yet  in  those  days  such  imprints  were  by 
no  means  rare,  and  the  career  of  Pelham  Devereux, 
Earl  of  Charteris,  had  not,  save  in  one  or  two  par- 
ticulars, differed  very  much  from  the  customary  rout 

41 


42  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

and  royster  of  any  other  young  gentleman  of  birth 
and  fortune. 

The  Earl  inclined  his  head,  as  he  slightly  indicated 
the  gallows  hill,  now  in  view,  with  the  handle  of  his 
riding  whip. 

"  Oh ! "  cried  Kitty,  shuddering  at  the  cruel  sight 
and  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  while  the  maids 
gaped  and  grinned.  "  What  are  we  doing,  coming 
home  this  way  through  Chilton !  'Tis  on  account  of 
the  gallows  that  I  never  ride  this  way,  and  have  a 
hundred  times  instructed  all  the  men  not  to  drive  us 
here." 

"  A  shorter  route  home,  fair-  Mistress  Kitty," 
called  out  the  gallant  at  her  right,  pulling  rein  a 
bit  to  keep  the  slow  pace  of  the  coach  up  the  hill. 

"  A  longer  one  were  best,  then,  and  none  o'  that !  " 
The  girl  shivered  as  she  saw  the  wide  arms  spread  out 
against  the  deep  blue  sky,  the  noose  dangling  empty 
in  the  breeze,  reminder  of  a  hanging  not  so  long  ago. 

"Who  swung  last  yonder?"  asked  Sir  Thomas, 
again  addressing  the  Earl. 

"  A  fellow,  let  me  see,  I  can't  recall  his  name ;  a 
smuggler,  of  course.  'Tis  with  that  sort  of  cattle 
the  seaboard's  swarming." 

"  Humph!  "  ejaculated  the  baronet.     "  Taking  in 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  43 

Hollands,  and  tea,  and  cambric  from  the  Dutch, 
doubtless  ?  Zounds !  sir,  why  the  devil  does  the  gov- 
ernment keep  up  a  duty  on  Bohea  of  one  hundred  and 
nineteen  per  cent.  'Tis  monstrous !  Damnable !  Op- 
posed to  justice!  Contrary  to  all  sound  principles  of 
legislation !  An  impost,  sir,  calculated  to  breed  smug- 
glers in  every  coast  town  in  the  kingdom !  I,  for  one, 
don't  blame  the  smugglers,  nor  does  many  another 
gentleman,  if  report  speaks  true.  Herries  of  More- 
cambe,  'tis  well  known,  is  part  owner  of  a  smack 
that  sails  by  night  and  always  manages  to  elude  the 
excisemen." 

"  Tut,  tut,  sir !  "  replies  Charteris.  "  'Twere  diffi- 
cult to  credit  a  gentleman  of  honour  with  such  prac- 
tices, howsoever  hard  put  to  it  for  the  paying  of  his 
gaming  debts." 

Sir  Thomas  eyed  the  Earl  with  attention.  "  Were 
you  hereabouts  when  this  man,"  nodding  backward 
at  the  gibbet,  "  was  caught  ?  " 

"  Chanced  to  be  quite  in  the  neighbourhood,"  re- 
plies the  younger,  laughing.  "  'Twas  only  three 
months  ago  ;  a  clever  rogue,  but  outwitted  at  the  last ; 
he  was  attempting  to  run  his  vessel  up  the  bay  in  a 
fog,  made  a  miscalculation,  slipped  her  on  the  sand- 
bank close  by  Tamworth ;  before  the  tide  rose  to  get 


44  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

her  off,  up  pops  a  revenue  cutter  and  takes  posses- 
sion ;  she  was  deep  loaded  with  a  costly  cargo." 

"How  do  you  know?"  inquired  the  restless  old 
gentleman. 

"  I  went  down  and  saw  her  the  next  morning.  The 
master  had  made  off,  and  hid  himself  in  the  Smug- 
gler's Cave,  as  'tis  called,  betwixt  Tamworth  and 
Chilton  Bay.  There  Baglers  and  Boffe,  the  riding 
officers,  came  up  with  him,  but  he  was  not  taken  be- 
fore he'd  earned  the  hemp  by  shooting  Boffe  through 
the  heart." 

"  Bless  my  soul,"  cried  Sir  Thomas,  moving  again 
in  his  seat,  and  much  discommoding  his  lady. 

"  For  my  sake,  Sir  Thomas,"  she  cried,  "  pray  sit 
still.  Thrice  have  you  discomposed  my  bonnet  since 
we  quitted  Coniston  Grange,  and  as  for  poor  Betty's 
reticule,  four  times  already  have  your  restless  boots 
emptied  it  of  its  contents." 

"  Restless,  madam !  Zounds !  I  give  you  my 
word  I  have  not  stirred.  I  must  breathe,  madam, 
or  make  you  at  once  a  widow.  Restless !  Heyday ! 
that's  a  fine  word  for  a  gentleman  that  sits  stock-still 
for  hours  at  a  time ! "  and  Sir  Thomas,  possibly  to 
emphasise  the  quietness  of  his  disposition,  now 
bounced  about  on  his  cushion,  his  thin  elbows  akimbo 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  45 

and  the  hilt  of  his  sword  digging  playfully  into  his 
lady's  side.  A  shriek  of  pain  from  her,  and  another 
of  sympathy  from  Lady  Betty;  then  smelling-salts, 
vapours,  and  tears.  Sir  Thomas  stopped  the  coach, 
and  mounted  up  outside,  in  no  pleasant  humour,  to 
discipline  Kitty. 

"  La !  "  smiled  Lady  Trevor  triumphantly.  "  I 
knew  a  few  judicious  sobs  would  send  your  uncle  fly- 
ing atop.  Betty,  love,  I  felt  I  must,  since  Charteris 
joined  us  at  the  last  moment  of  our  leaving  the 
Grange,  I  must  urge  you  to  be  discreet." 

"  Discreet !  Would  to  God,  aunt,  I  had  chances 
to  be  aught  else !  " 

"  Fie,  girl,  and  you  sure  of  being  Duchess  of  Har- 
lowe.  What  d'ye  mean,  Betty  ?  " 

"  I  mean,  madam,  that  Harlowe's  like  lukewarm 
water,  and  not  finding  me  at  all  the  sort  of  fire  to 
bring  him  to  the  boiling  point.  Aunt,  there's  no 
ninny  out  of  the  nursery  but  knows  whether  a  man 
loves  her  or  not,  when  she's  had  two  hours  of  conver- 
sation with  him  alone,  not  a  soul  to  interfere,  not 
even  a  cat  or  a  bird."  Lady  Betty  now  stamped 
her  feet  in  such  a  fashion  as  sent  the  contents  of  her 
reticule  once  more  rolling  on  the  bottom  of  the 
coach.  She  had  inherited  a  touch  of  her  uncle's 


46  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

temper;  and  stooping  she  gathered  up  thimble,  scis- 
sors, reels,  and  needles,  and  flung  them  out  of  the 
window. 

"  Ugh !  "  cried  she  impetuously.  "  So  would  I  like 
to  do  with  whatever  lady  'tis  that's  standing  now 
betwixt  Harlowe  and  me !  " 

"  Betty,  I  pray  you  arouse  not  the  curiosity  of 
Charteris  and  Rawdon."  Lady  Trevor  forcibly  stays 
the  arm  that  is  about  to  toss  in  the  road  a  laced  ker- 
chief and  a  bottle  of  essence. 

"  I  care  not  a  rap  for  one  or  other  of  'em !  "  And 
the  fair  Betty  wrests  her  arm  from  her  elder,  and 
tearing  the  cambric  to  tatters,  she  sends  it  and  the 
musk  a-flying.  "  What's  Charteris  to  me  ?  Answer 
me  that  if  you  can ! "  Her  beautiful  black  eyes 
blazed  and  the  red  of  her  cheek  was  aflame,  yet  there 
were  tears  on  her  lashes  and  a  quiver  at  the  curve  of 
her  mouth. 

"  That  can  I  not,  Betty,  or  will  not,  for  Char- 
teris' repute  is  too  ill  for  me  to  harbour  a  thought 
concerning  him." 

"  Is  it  so  ?  "  cried  the  girl  in  a  fury.  "  What 
worse  is  my  Lord  Charteris'  reputation  than  that  of 
any  other  young  blood?  Does  he  spend  his  nights 
at  the  gaming  table?  Who  does  not?  Does  he  fre- 


PAMELA  CONGREVE  47 

quent  Drury  Lane,  the  Haymarket,  and  Covent 
Garden,  ogling  the  odious  player  women?  What 
fine  gentleman  does  not?  Did  he  owe  debts  incal- 
culable, had  he  fought  duels  innumerable,  did  he  drink 
immeasurably,  yet  I  love  him ! " 

"  Betty  !  "  Lady  Trevor  shook  her  head  so  fiercely 
that  all  the  vast  structure  of  her  coiffure  trembled  in 
perilous  fashion. 

"  How  is  it,  then,  girl,  you  prattle  of  Har- 
lowe?" 

"Harlowe!  Aunt,  were  you  ever  young?  Did 
you  ever  know  what  love  is?  But  nay — since  you 
wedded  with  my  Uncle  Thomas,  how  could  you ! " 

"  Hussy ! "  exclaimed  the  indignant  matron. 
"  Me  not  know  what  love  is,  and  half  the  gentlemen 
of  our  county  at  my  feet,  and  Sir  Thomas  Trevor,  a 
fine  handsome  buck,  the  envy  of  'em  all  when  he  got 
me!" 

"  Well,  well,  aunt,  I  suppose  so." 

"  Suppose,  indeed !  And  well  you  may !  Now 
confess  to  me  at  once,  miss,  why  you  encourage 
Harlowe  all  that  you  can,  and  yet  say  your  heart 
belongs  to  Charteris  ?  " 

"  Aunt !  You  force  me  to  ask,  are  you  a  woman  ? 
Why  does  a  lady  smile  upon  a  man  she  does  not  love, 


48  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

save  it  be  to  whet  the  lagging  purpose  of  one  she 
does?" 

"  Oh !  Yet,  niece,  beware.  Harlowe  can  make 
you  a  duchess.  Your  uncle's  heart  is  set  upon  the 
match,  and  Charteris  he  never  favoured." 

"  My  heart  is  otherwise  disposed,  and  that  makes 
the  whole  difference.  I  will  but  cry  '  on  '  to  Harlowe 
so  that  Charteris  hearing,  seeing,  may  come  to  yearn 
for  me,  if  but  to  rob  his  rival  of  the  prize.  There's 
no  love  spilled  between  those  two,  I  swear.  Could  I 
but  see  them  fighting  for  my  sake  in  Hyde  Park, 
then  would  I  be  content." 

"  Have  a  care,  Betty.  If  I  have  eyes,  neither  of 
these  gentlemen  is  mad  for  love  of  you,  handsome  as 
you  are.  Be  prudent,  niece;  prudence  has  made 
more  matches  than  precipitation,  especially  when  the 
swain's  not  overfond  in  his  pursuing.  Act  so  you 
lose  not  both  gallants  in  your  frenzy  to  obtain  the 
worser  of  the  pair." 

"  Damnation !  as  my  Uncle  Thomas  says !  "  cried 
Lady  Betty  recklessly.  "  Madam,  I  could  with  a 
good  will  throw  you  out  into  the  ditch  after  my 
essences.  I  could " 

What  further  she  could  have  done  was  lost  to  pos- 
terity forever  by  the  sudden  and  fearful  lunge  of  the 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  49 

leaders ;  her  own  speech  merged  into  a  shriek  of  ter- 
ror parallelled,  nay,  completely  outdone  by  similar 
sounds  from  Lady  Trevor,  Kitty,  and  the  serving- 
women.  Over  went  the  coach,  rocking  on  its  springs, 
into  the  deep  ditch  where  the  highroad  crossed  the 
lane  leading  down  to  the  Greene  Shippe. 

Such  a  plunging  and  capering  of  horse-legs  up  in 
the  air,  such  leaping  of  gentlemen  and  postilions 
from  their  saddles,  such  outcries,  such  gathering  of 
village  folk  and  children  had  never  been  seen  or  heard 
in  that  peaceful  spot  before. 

Presently  Sir  Thomas  crawled  out  from  between 
the  wheels,  wig  in  hand,  sword  bent,  covered  with 
mud  from  head  to  foot.  With  cane  uplifted  he 
swore  roundly  at  everyone  within  hearing,  while 
frightened  servants  tried  in  vain  to  carry  out  his 
twenty  different  orders  at  once.  His  lady  was  hauled 
out,  breathless,  from  amid  the  debris,  Lady  Betty 
pulled  from  under  cushions  by  Charteris,  and  Kitty, 
all  agog  for  adventure,  like  any  other  wholesome 
sixteen-year-old,  unhurt,  and  happy,  picked  herself 
up,  while  poor  Lord  Rawdon,  of  all  the  company, 
alone  lay  prone,  his  white  face  upturned  to  the  sky, 
his  arm  broken,  in  the  hands  of  the  village  surgeon. 

Lady  Trevor,  when  her  headdress  had  been  hastily 


50  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

adjusted  by  her  woman,  at  once  took  her  spouse  by 
the  ear  and  marshalled  him,  as  the  ladies  of  such  blus- 
tering husbands  are  apt  to  do  on  momentous  occa- 
sions. 

"  Jock  or  Jenny,"  she  called  to  the  country  louts 
•gaping  about,  "  half  a  crown  to  the  one  that  shows 
the  shortest  path  to  the  nearest  inn." 

"  The  Blue  Pigeon,  my  lady,  'tis  the  best ;  nighest 
too ! "  shouts  Dame  Piggot's  oldest  boy,  keen  for 
custom. 

"  Out  wi'  'ee  for  a  liar ! "  retorts  Jock,  boots  at 
the  Greene  Shippe,  cuffing  his  rival  smartly,  and  bob- 
bing reverently  before  her  ladyship.  "  Well  'ee 
knows  Greene  Shippe's  hard  by  and  best  i'  the  county. 
This  way,  my  lady,  'taint  no  more  'n  a  step." 

So  the  procession  started.  Lady  Betty  lingered 
a  moment,  waiting  for  an  offer  of  escort  from  her 
handsome  cavalier.  But  Lord  Charteris,  smiling  to 
himself  behind  her  back,  called  out :  "  Await  us  not, 
Lady  Betty,  I  pray  you.  I  shall  tarry  here  a  space 
with  poor  Rawdon  until  the  fellows  can  bring  a 
litter.  I'll  join  you  surely  for  supper  at  the  famous 
Greene  Shippe." 

Betty  bit  her  lip  and  followed  the  rest  poutingly. 
The  by-play  had  not  been  lost  upon  her  aunt,, for 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  51 

all  the  confusion  of  the  moment.  "  Now  you  see," 
said  she,  "  how  Charteris  flouts  you,  to  remain  beside 
one  of  his  own  sex !  Lud,  Betty !  if  you've  a  proper 
spirit ! " 

"  By  George  himself !  as  my  Uncle  Thomas  says, 
if  I  haven't,  then  shut  me  up  in  a  nunnery  over  in 
France.  Bring  me  your  Duke  hither  and  I'll  marry 
him  out  of  hand,  nor  ever  stand  aside  for  Pelham 
to  ignore  me  again,  so  long  as  I  live." 

"  Spoke  with  some  sense,"  replied  the  aunt. 
"  Marriage  is  the  properest  sort  of  a  rite  for  any 
young  lady  of  ton  to  engage  herself  withal.  As 
to  love  and  all  such  fiddlc-de-dee,  'tis  not  to  be  named 
in  the  same  breath  with  matrimony ! " 

"  A  pack  of  fools !  A  battalion  of  clodhoppers ! 
A  company  of  infernal  idiots !  What  d'ye  mean  by 
leading  a  gentleman  of  my  years  over  an  accursed 
path  like  this !  "  cried  Sir  Thomas,  now  released  from 
his  lady's  hold,  as  he  stumbled  amid  the  many  pit- 
falls of  the  lane. 

"  Aye,"  Betty  answered  her  aunt  with  a  sly  glance 
at  her  uncle,  "  of  a  certainty  'twould  seem  love  and 
marriage  are  not  always  mates." 

"  Listen,  Betty,"  added  the  older  woman  in  a  low 
voice.  "  As  we  learned  this  morning,  ere  we  em- 


52  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

barked  on  this  ill-starred  journey,  his  Grace  is  at 
some  lodge  hereabouts  for  the  shooting.  Heaven 
grant  he  hears  of  our  accident  and  comes  to  condole 
with  us.  Then's  your  chance.  Bring  him  to  the 
point,  girl,  and  make  yourself  a  duchess !  " 

With  which  commendable  adjuration  the  cortege, 
led  by  Jock  the  boots  upholding  Sir  Thomas,  entered 
the  Inn  yard  and  was  received  by  Mistress  Dormer 
with  her  lowest  curtsey,  Oliver,  the  men,  the  maids, 
the  parrot,  cats,  and  dogs,  forming  a  group  of 
supporters  around  her. 


CHAPTER  VII 

"  PELHAM  " 

BUT  Pamela  drew  further  into  the  shadow  of 
the  taproom  corner  by  the  counter,  her 
gaze  riveted  on  the  wide  arch  which  opened 
into  the  parlours  and  to  the  one  beyond  giving 
upon  the  yard.  She  saw  Lady  Trevor,  irate  and 
stiff,  attended  by  her  woman;  Kitty  sparkling  with 
delight  and  fun ;  Lady  Betty  supported  by  her  Abi- 
gail, a  bottle  of  smelling  salts  to  her  upper  lip; 
grooms  fetching  boxes  and  parcels;  the  indignant 
Sir  Thomas  bringing  up  the  rear,  beating  the  brick 
pavement  with  his  cane,  while  Dame  Dormer,  Oliver, 
and  the  rest  were  all  assisting  with  many  bobs,  curt- 
sies, and  obsequious  grins. 

At  the  further  corner  of  the  taproom,  just  out- 
side the  window,  stood  Doddington  Heathcote, 
his  eyes  upon  Pamela,  motioning  her,  "  Come 
outside  to  the  stables  and  finish  the  lesson  in 
dancing." 

53 


54  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Finger  on  her  lip,  she  nodded  back  to  him.  "  Aye, 
when  I've  taken  peep  at  the  quality." 

For  Pamela  had  never  seen  quality  before — save 
one  man ;  and  it  was  her  instinct  to  search  any  com- 
pany of  gentlefolk  now,  to  see  if  that  one  might  not 
be  among  them. 

She  watched  with  a  curious  interest,  as  Lady 
Betty's  woman  fanned  her  handsome  young  mistress 
and  plied  her  with  restoratives;  watched  Lady 
Trevor's  scornful  mien,  Kitty's  wide,  mirthful  eyes; 
lent  ears  to  Sir  Thomas  as  he  spoke : 

"  A  pretty  devil  of  a  spill,  landlord.  Damnation ! 
Here's  my  lady  frightened  out  of  her  wits ;  my  niece 
Lady  Betty  in  a  swoon ;  my  daughter " 

Kitty  ran  across  and  clapped  her  hands  over  his 
lips.  "  Your  daughter,  sir,  as  bright  as  a  new  shil- 
ling, and  only  put  into  a  sulk  because  'twas  an  ugly 
ditch  pitched  us  out  and  not  an  enchanting  high- 
wjayman." 

"  We  humbly  ask  your  lordship's  and  their  lady- 
ships' pardon  for  having  such  a  ditch,"  exclaimed 
Oliver,  reminded  of  his  duty  by  a  smart  rap  from  his 
dame.  Then  she  pushed  him  outside  and  took  com- 
mand of  the  situation  herself. 

"  If  your  ladyships  will  have  refreshments  and  a 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  55 

night's  rest,  I'm  sure  the  Greene  Shippe  '11  feel  too 
highly  honoured.  Marian,  Moll,  Jess,  light  the  fires 
in  the  best  chambers !  Carry  up  the  hot  water !  Lay 
the  cloth.  Go !  go ! "  and  out  flocked  the  maids  to 
do  her  bidding. 

A  whisper  from  Lady  Trevor  recalled  Lady  Betty 
from  her  swoon.  "  Betty,  you  look  a  fright ;  if 
Charteris  enter  to  find  you  thus  awry,  'twere  an  ill 
thing.  Leave  swooning  and  tantrums,  I  beg !  They 
only  become  a  maid  that  hath  a  sweeter  disposition 
than  you  to  offset  'em." 

Her  ladyship  revived  with  surprising  quickness. 
"  Pray  have  plenty  of  candles  set,  and  all  the  mirrors 
there  are  in  the  house,"  was  her  command. 

"  Have  no  fears,  my  lady.  Everything  shall  be 
to  your  ladyship's  liking,"  and  Dame  Dormer 
bustled  away,  voice  uplifted  to  be  heard,  as  she  would 
have  chosen,  as  far  as  the  Blue  Pigeon. 

Lady  Betty  now  glanced  about  languidly,  took  up 
her  crystal  bottle,  and  held  it  to  her  nose. 

Pam,  an  elf  in  each  dark-blue  eye,  tucked  the  fiddle 
under  her  arm  and  picked  up  a  toby  from  the  coun- 
ter behind  which  she  sheltered. 

"  Whatever  shall  I  do  without  my  other  women  to 
wait  upon  me,"  sighed  her  ladyship. 


56  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Up  went  the  toby  to  the  tip  of  Pam's  pretty  little 
nose,  in  such  exact  imitation  of  Lady  Betty  as 
caused  Master  Heathcote,  still  watching  at  the  win- 
dow, nearly  to  explode  with  suppressed  laughter. 

"  Whatever  shall  I  do  without  my  other  women  ?  " 
whispered  the  mimic,  with  so  delicious  an  effrontery 
of  counterfeit,  so  perfect  a  languish  and  drawl  as 
gave  the  manager  double  joy,  relating  both  to  his  art 
and  to  his  passion. 

With  little  mincing  steps,  Pamela  had  reached 
Heathcote,  her  mouth  pursed  up  like  a  rosebud  on  the 
eve  of  blowing.  He  leaned  in,  drew  her  nearer  to 
sit  on  the  sill,  dimpling  into  a  silent  laughter  to 
match  Heathcote's  own,  as,  her  head  turned  to  watch 
Lady  Betty,  she  still  preserved  the  mien  of  a  lady  of 
ton  distraught  with  ennui. 

Heathcote  could  no  longer  control  himself,  so  he 
stooped  and  lifted  Pamela  out  into  the  yard  through 
the.  window,  the  toby  crashing  on  the  bricks,  the  fiddle 
caught  in  his  ruffles.  Out  raced  the  mischievous  pair 
to  the  stables,  with  nothing  but  youth  and  spirits  to 
guide. 

Meantime  Kitty  took  off  her  cousin's  bonnet  and 
laid  it  on  the  table. 

"  Take  heart,   coz,  'I'll  be  your  second  Abigail. 


PAMELA  CONGREVE  57 

Be  merry,  lack-a-day !  'Tis  an  adventure  full  of 
sport !  If  Sir  Toby  were  but  here,"  Kitty's  eyes 
shot  a  glance  at  her  father  as  she  spoke,  "  I'd  lack 
nothing  to  my  entire  happiness." 

"  Sir  Toby,  forsooth !  Milksop,  scare-bird !  'f raid 
of  a  shadow ! "  cried  Sir  Thomas,  at  a  significant 
nod  from  his  wife. 

"  You'll  wed  Lord  Rawdon  or  you'll  die  a  maid — 
d'ye  hear?  "  And  he  pinched  Kitty's  little  pink  ear 
to  emphasise  his  authority. 

"  Aye,  dad,  but  I'll  not  heed !  "  answers  the  minx. 
"  I'll  not  marry  Rawdon,  I  swear." 

"  Kitty,  be  not  thus  vixenish,  I  entreat,"  im- 
plored her  mother. 

"  Damnation !  "  shouted  Sir  Thomas,  "  you  are 
my  daughter,  I  believe,  girl,  and  you'll  do  as  I  say ! 
You've  been  taking  lessons  from  your  cousin  Betty 
here.  'Tis  '  I  will '  and  '  I  won't '  with  both  of  ye. 
Baggages!  As  sure  as  my  name's  Sir  Thomas 
Trevor,  ye'll  both  wed  to  please  me.  As  for  you, 
miss," — poor  Kitty's  other  ear  now  received  a  tweak, 
— "  off  with  you  to  your  chamber,  supperless.  Ye 
need  no  meat  to  feed  your  disobedience." 

"  Nor  my  love,"  responded  his  daughter,  "  for 
— Sir — To — by !  "  edging  toward  the  door,  laughing. 


58  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Good-night,  sir,  madam,  sweet  coz.  All  fine  dreams 
attend  ye.  Mine  '11  be  of — Toby ! "  And  out 
flounced  Mistress  Kitty,  just  in  time  to  elude  a  stroke 
of  her  father's  cane. 

"  Vicious  little  filly !  "  he  shouted.  "  She  shall  be 
broke  to  my  harness  and  to  the  gait  I  teach  her.  My 
lady,  and  my  niece,  I  leave  you  to  go  inquire  how 
fares  the  injured  future  husband  of  our  daughter." 
Off  went  Sir  Thomas,  his  cane  thumping  the  floor, 
upsetting  most  things  in  his  path,  including  a  pan  of 
milk,  a  pair  of  cats,  and  a  jug  of  mead. 

"  You  see  your  uncle's  mind's  made  up  for  Har- 
lowe." 

"  Prithee,  aunt,  when  I  am  of  a  humour  for  Char- 
teris,  twit  me  not  with  t'other." 

"  Well,  well,  niece,  look  you,  you're  past  six-and- 
twenty,  a  perilous  age  to  be  still  unwedded.  An'  I  see 
not  Charteris  hasting  to  your  side,  as  methinks,  after 
this  fright,  he  should  do,  if  it  had  spurred  him  to 
caress  your  spirits  into  a  recovery,  'tis  your  part  to 
encourage  the  Duke  at  the  first  chance." 

"  Aunt — that  I  should  be  compelled  by  marriage 
to  call  you  so !  You  are  driving  me  into  such  a  pretty 
frenzy  as  I  promise  you  will  far  outdo  the  temper 
you  worked  me  to  at  Easter-tide,  when,  as  you  know, 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  59 

I  smashed  your  best  Chinese  tea  movables  into  ten 
thousand  bits ! "  Lady  Betty  was  now  pacing  up 
and  down  the  room,  beating  the  air  with  her  fan 
and  slashing  the  table  with  her  bonnet,  held  by  its 
ribbons. 

"  Tell  me  why  'tis  when  once  a  lady  hath  secured 
a  husband  she  rests  not  until  she  has  persuaded,  de- 
rided, twitted  every  other  into  a  like  environment? 
Tell  me  that?  Is  it  because  you've  found  the 
married  state  so  deep  a  hell  you'd  like  to  have  com- 
pany in  perdition?  Or  why  then  is  it  the  custom  for 
every  ill-mated  wife,  who  rends  the  air  with  plaints  of 
wretchedness,  still  in  her  cooler  hours  to  counsel  un- 
suspecting virginity,  '  Go  find  a  husband  '  ?  Tell  me 
that." 

"Tut,  tut,  Betty!"  her  aunt  said  soberly.  "I 
would  see  you  well  married  because  I  love  you." 

"  What's  '  well  married,'  eh  ?  Mince  it  not,  aunt. 
'Tis  married  to  the  man  you  elect,  not  the  one  I 
choose.  Once  for  all,  I'll  not  wed  your  Duke  till 
there's  no  hope  that  I  may  be  Pelham's  wife. 
Madam,  an'  I'm  six-and-twenty,  I'll  have  my  way 
nor  bow  to  yours  or  my  uncle's.  So  !  " 

"  I  would  remind  you,  Betty,  choler's  not  the  most 
becoming  goad  to  your  complexion,"  Lady  Trevor 


60  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

put  in,  with  that  dexterity  at  unpleasant  speeches 
not  uncommon  in  her  sex. 

"  I'll  trounce  myself  into  twenty  tempers  if  I  like, 
Madam  Aunt !  By  George !  as  my  uncle  says,  if  I'm 
so  choleric  I'll  ring  for  wine  to  cool  it."  And  she 
gave  such  a  pull  at  the  rope  as  set  the  echoes  going. 

Pamela  came  rushing  from  the  stables,  guiltily 
tying  up  her  apron  strings,  throwing  back  her  curls 
and  pinning  them  in  place. 

"  Wine,  wench,  wine,  any  sort !  "  cried  Lady  Betty, 
not  even  turning  of  her  head. 

"  Nay,  not  any  sort,"  Lady  Trevor  interrupted. 
"  Your  best,  if  you  have  any  that  is  good." 

"  Aye,  my  lady,  we  have." 

Pamela  crossed  behind  the  counter  and  mounted 
the  ladder,  searching  for  the  jug. 

Lady  Trevor  pursued  her  counsels  placidly :  "  'Tis 
commendable,  Betty,  that  you  have  a  spirit.  I 
blame  you  not.  In  married  life  'tis  she  who  possesses 
it  that  obtains  her  will;  for  when  no  other  course  is 
open  for  routing  of  one's  lord,  a  noise  at  the  least 
will  often  do  it.  I've  had  to  use  my  spirit,  and  my 
tongue,  with  your  Uncle  Thomas !  " 

"  Oh,  aunt,"  cries  the  girl,  unheeding  Pamela  up 
on  her  ladder,  and  on  the  verge  of  a  flood  of  tears, 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  61 

"  if  I  gain  not  him  I  crave,  then  go  buy  me  a 
shroud." 

Lady  Trevor  laid  her  hand  on  Betty's  shoulder  as 
she  stood  behind  the  sofa  on  which  the  young  lady 
sat. 

"  If  he  cries  off  to  you,  throw  him  steel  for  steel 
and  sing  out,  *  Touch  me  not ! '  That's  the  way  to 
bring  men  to  their  senses." 

Pamela,  up  on  the  ladder,  having  found  the  jug, 
set  it  on  the  top  step  while  she  looped  up  her  tresses 
more  tidily,  her  large  eager  eyes  taking  in  with  a 
child's  fresh  pleasure  the  pretty  fallals  and  gewgaws 
belonging  to  the  quality,  that  lay  about  the  room. 

"  It  may  do  with  some,"  answered  Lady  Betty, 
"  but  not  with  Pelham."  She  shook  her  head  mourn- 
fully, relapsing  into  quiescence  after  the  violence  of 
her  tirade. 

Pamela  stopped  short  on  the  ladder. 

"  Pelham ! "  she  echoed  under  her  breath,  while 
her  small  white  teeth  fastened  on  her  full  red  under 
lip. 

Then  she  came  down  the  ladder,  crossed  to  the 
table  with  the  wine  and  glasses,  and  poured  them  full, 
her  small  hand  shaking  a  little  as  she  did  so,  un- 
marked by  the  guests.  She  crossed  back  into  the  tap- 


62  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

room,  went  behind  the  counter,  and  sat  down  on  the 
lowest  rung  of  the  ladder.  There  was  a  tumult  in 
her  brain :  the  name  she  had  heard  was  one  familiar 
to  her,  but  was  it  not  possible  that  twenty,  nay  a 
thousand,  men  might  bear  it? 

She  sat  very  still,  not  so  much  to  listen  as  to  think. 
The  name  she  had  heard  put  to  flight,  at  least  for 
the  moment,  all  her  sweet  elfish  jubilance  and  stilled 
her  pulses  into  a  curious  calm. 

Lady  Betty  at  last  set  down  her  glass  with  a 
clang. 

"  It  chokes  me,  aunt !  I  swear  I  can  drink  no 
more.  I  am  of  that  humour,  now,  that  naught  will 
appease  me  save  Pelham's  smiles."  Her  ladyship 
snatched  at  her  glass  again,  however,  and  drained  it. 

"  To  win  him !  " 

The  lip  of  the  girl  on  the  ladder  curled,  as  she 
thought  to  herself:  " 'Tis  women  must  be  won,  my 
lady,  and  'tis  men's  place  to  follow,  and  be  keen  after 
them.  Leastways,  so  I  learned.  But  I  knows 
naught  of  quality." 

"  To  win  him  " — Lady  Betty  kicked  the  ashes  on 
the  hearth — "  I'd  give  my  soul.  Oh,  that  for  one 
brief  hour  I  knew  how  to  lure  him !  He  has  a  magic 
in  his  glance  that,  when  I'm  of  this  pent-up  mood, 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  63 

melts  my  highest  spirits.  Bah,  why  should  I  tarry? 
I'll  go  find  him !  " 

"  Betty,"  said  the  older  woman,  "  pray  do  nothing 
rash." 

"  Tut,  aunt,  look  you,  what  seems  rash  at  sixty- 
two  is  naught  but  natural  and  proper  at  six-and- 
twenty.  Nay,  think  not  to  keep  me.  Let  me  go !  " 
And  out  went  she,  her  head  tossed  defiantly  in  the 
air. 

Pamela  did  not  move. 

She  saw  Lady  Betty  go  out;  she  saw  Sir  Thomas 
now  come  in,  calling  for  his  cane  at  the  top  of  his 
voice.  Spying  her  out,  with  those  quick  eyes  age 
sometimes  has,  he  cried: 

"  Wench,  go  fetch  me  my  cane.  I  left  it  above. 
Go!" 

"  I'm  a-goin',  sir,"  answers  Pamela,  curtseying 
respectfully. 

"  What  for,  Sir  Thomas?  "  asked  his  lady.  "  I'm 
on  my  way  to  supper.  Surely  'tis  served  by  this." 

"  Stand  still,"  exclaims  the  baronet  with  a  vigor- 
ous stamp  of  his  foot.  "  Listen  to  me.  Harlowe's 
not  far  off,  for  the  season's  sport,  'tis  said.  The 
game's  neither  buck  or  rabbits,  I  do  mistrust  me,  but 
that  fair  deer,  my  niece  Betty.  I  command  your 


64  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

ladyship  to  see  to  it  that  she  smiles  on  him,  if  he 
comes  here  for  refreshment ;  as  I've  seen  to  it  he  shall, 
by  sending  my  own  man  on  a  horse  to  encounter  him, 
as  if  by  chance,  and  acquaint  him  with  our  acci- 
dent and  proximity ! " 

"  And  women,  'tis  said,  carry  the  palm  for  artful- 
ness !  La !  but  it  takes  a  man  to  manoeuvre !  Yet  I 
fear  me  you'll  but  prove  the  fool  for  your  pains,  Sir 
Thomas.  Betty's  of  that  mood  to  flout  the  crown 
of  England,  if  it  were  offered  her.  One  of  her  tan- 
trums hath  her  in  its  hold  and  her  heart's  set  on  Char- 
teris." 

"  Bah !  Charteris  wants  naught  of  her,  save  to 
borrow  money  from  the  Jews  on  the  promise  of  a 
marriage  with  her,  then,  when  he's  flung  it  all  away 
at  cards,  to  jilt  her.  That's  the  tune  Charteris 
would  play  for  her  to  dance  to — but  'tis  my  duty  to 
thwart  him,  and  I  will.  She  shall  wed  his  Grace  of 
Harlowe.  Have  a  care,  my  lady,  shake  not  your 
head;  'tis  our  own  interests  must  be  looked  after. 
The  house  we  live  in  is  his,  as  you  know — but  that 
which  you  now  learn  for  the  first  time  is  that  I  am 
full  three  years  in  arrears  for  the  rental." 

"  What  of  it  ?  I'm  not  sorry  to  learn  we're  quite 
in  the  fashion,  for  I  lately  learned  from  Mr.  Beau- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  65 

clerc  at  the  Grange,  'twere  as  well  be  out  of  the 
world  as  out  of  debt.     Why,  Sir  Thomas,  his  Gra- 
cious Majesty  himself  owes  thousands !  " 
"Madam,  madam,  are  you  a  fool?" 
"  Aye,  sir,  I  take  it  that  I  must  be  since  I  married 

you." 

"  Damnation !  to  stand  babbling  here,  with  Betty 
unprepared  and  Harlowe  like  to  appear  at  any  mo- 
ment. It  takes  a  woman  and  one's  wife  to  play  the 
idiot." 

Lady  Trevor  curtseyed  low. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you,  sir,  for  your  civility.  It 
reminds  me  of  the  days  when  you  were  courting  me 
and  swore " 

"  I  swear  now !  Lady  Trevor,  go  you  to  my  niece 
Betty  and  show  her  that  the  path  of  prudence  lies 
toward  a  ducal  coronet  and  from  any  such  gamester 
and  intriguer  as  Charteris."  Sir  Thomas  at  this 
point  raised  his  right  arm,  thinking  his  cane  was  in 
his  hand,  and  Pamela,  entering  with  it,  at  the  moment 
slipped  it  into  his  grasp  without  a  word,  then  crossed 
to  her  counter,  mugs,  and  jugs. 

"  Off  with  ye,  madam ! "  now  cried  Sir  Thomas, 
thwacking  the  chimney-piece  with  his  stick. 

"  I  go,"  replied  his  lady  in  the  doorway,  "  but  if  I 


66  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

had  my  way,  I'd  alter  the  marriage  service  to  my 
liking  and  there'd  be  no  obey  in  it  for  us !  " 

"  The  devil !  "  exclaimed  the  testy  baronet,  gazing 
astonished  at  his  cane.  "  I  could  have  taken  oath  I 
left  this  for  a  warning  up  at  Kitty's  door,  but  I  must 
have  brought  it  down.  To  supper!  To  supper,  I 
say ! "  and  Sir  Thomas  moved  towards  the  dining- 
room,  whence  presently  arose  goodly  odours,  and 
much  clatter  of  dishes,  to  tell  that  the  Greene  Shippe 
had  done  its  best. 


CHAPTER  VIH 

"  I  HA*  DONE  A  MURDER  " 

PAMELA,  not  being  called  to  serve,  stood  for 
a  moment  looking  down,  and  then  she 
raised  her  eyes,  saw  the  place  in  disorder, 
and  set  about  tidying  it  mechanically,  fetching  the 
broom  and  sweeping  the  hearth.  On  her  way  over  to 
the  cupboard,  she  spied  one  of  Lady  Betty's  feathers 
on  the  floor,  wrenched  from  its  nodding  place  by  her 
ladyship's  late  fit  of  rage.  Pam  picked  it  up  and 
with  those  small  pink-tipped  pretty  fingers  of  hers, 
loving  luxury  well,  she  stroked  the  plume  as  she 
spoke. 

"  She  called  him  '  Pelham '  and  she  said  he'd  magic 
in  his  looks  as  'ud  melt  any  spirit!  That's  true  of 
him  I  call  Pelham  too.  An'  he  won't  court  her, 
handsome  as  she  is ;  and  he's  nigh,  nigh ! "  The 
girl  shivered.  Sticking  the  long  plume  thought- 
lessly in  the  thick  twist  of  her  hair,  she  crouched  be- 
fore the  fire.  A  deep  and  piteous  sob  burst  from  her 

67 


68  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

lips.  "  Nigh,  nigh ! "  she  repeated,  and  her  face 
was  torn  with  the  conflicting  emotions  of  her  young 
soul. 

Pamela  loved  love. 

Love  is  a  woman's  first  love  almost  always,  not  the 
man,  save  as  he  is  the  vehicle  for  love's  expression. 
It  may  be  almost  any  man ;  careless,  ignorant  of  his 
real  nature,  she  dowers  him  who  first  loves  her  with 
all  the  attributes  of  all  the  gods  she  has  ever  heard 
of,  and  portions  out  to  him,  miserable  creature  as  he 
sometimes  is,  a  nobility  which  makes  those  who  listen 
to  her  praises  smile.  It  is  last  love  that  is  love's 
own;  it  is  not  blind — but  sees  all  the  imperfections, 
and  a  woman  holds  the  man  she  loves  more  dear  for 
them,  so  that  he  comes  to  her  for  shriving. 

And  the  warfare  in  Pamela's  soul  was  the  struggle 
between  this  love  of  love  and  the  oath  she  had  taken 
the  evening  she  lay  down  on  the  wet  rocks  near  the 
sea. 

"  La,  la,  God  A'mighty,  I  want  to  speak  it  all 
out,"  she  moaned.  "  I  want  to  tell  someone.  If 
my  mother  was  here  beside  o'  me,  I'd  lay  my  head 
down  next  her  heart  and  make  her  know  how  some- 
thing shakes  in  me  at  the  mention  of  his  name,  and 
how  I  hate  him !  and  yet  and  yet Mother,  do  'ee 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  69 

hear  me?  If  'ee  do,  and  can  ask  favours  of  the 
Lord,  beg  him  to  keep  Pelham  from  crossing  my  path 
ever  again,  until  long  time  hence,  when  I'll  be  readier 
than  I  am  now.  Aye,  get  on  your  knees  to  the  Lord, 
mother,  and  ask  him !  " 

She  crouched  nearer  to  the  fire,  now  taking  up  the 
bellows  and  blowing  until  the  flames  leaped  up  out  of 
the  logs  and  painted  all  her  fair  face  crimson,  Lady 
Betty's  feather  still  dangling,  forgotten,  in  her 
curls. 

Then  Lord  Charteris  entered  the  Inn  yard,  quickly 
crossed  it,  and  came  glancing  in  toward  the  parlour. 

When  Pamela  heard  his  step,  her  lips  parted,  her 
eyes  dilated. 

Then  he  spoke,  without  seeing  her.  "  Where  are 
they  all?" 

Her  small  bosom  rose  and  fell. 

"  Nobody  about  ?  "  he  pursued,  taking  a  step  into 
the  room. 

"  I  am,"  says  she,  very  low,  her  hands  falling  list- 
lessly at  her  sides,  letting  the  bellows  drop  on  the 
hearth. 

"  The  devil  you  are ! "  exclaims  the  Earl,  annoyed 

for  the  moment,  as  might  plainly  be  perceived  by  the 

». 
indrawing  of  his  lower  lip,  the  tightening  of  his  hand 


70  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

amid  the  ruffles  at  his  breast.  Then  easy,  non- 
chalant, debonair,  he  came  over  and  continued: 

"  Pam,  lass,  who'd  ever  have  dreamed  of  finding 
you  here !  At  service?  " 

She  nodded  her  head. 

"  A  good  place?  " 

Again  she  nodded. 

Something  in  her  attitude  forbade  his  quitting 
her,  much  as  he  wished  to.  Gentlemen  of  his  calibre 
are  not  prone  to  embrace  disagreeable  meetings  with 
too  much  effusion,  but  there  was  a  compelling  power 
about  Pamela  which  this  man  had  nothing  in  him  to 
meet  save  his  own  love  for  her,  and  that  other  thing 
which,  for  the  nonce,  quite  outweighed  his  passion,  an 
empty  pocket  and  forty  thousand  pounds'  worth  of 
gaming  debts. 

"  How  has  the  world  treated  you  since  we  last  met, 
eh  ?  "  he  inquired,  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  table 
and  flicking  his  boot  with  his  whip  handle. 

"  Where  has  'ee  been  since  last  hour  we  spent  to- 
gether? "  asks  she,  now  rising  and  turning  to  him, 
confrontingly,  the  tremor  gone  from  her  lip  and  her 
hands,  her  breathing  quiet.  It  was  as  if  she  had 
slipped  leash  over  her  yearning  and  stood  up  there  to 
maintain  and  fulfil  a  vow. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  71 

"  Come,  come,  Pam,  be  sensible,"  he  answered, 
rather  airily.  "  Come  now !  " 

She  made  a  motion  nearer  him :  there  was  that  lure 
in  his  tone  that  women  like;  that  soft,  protective, 
possessive  something  that  at  times,  on  the  lips  of  a 
blackguard  even,  tempts  the  truest  of  her  sex. 

"  'Ee  knows  Pam's  wont  to  go  whenever  'ee  says 
come." 

He  put  out  his  arms,  and  his  black  eyes  softened 
as  they  rested  upon  her. 

It  was  but  a  moment ;  yet  in  that  moment  Pam  be- 
lieved her  mother  in  heaven  was  prevailing  with  the 
Lord,  and,  rough  as  was  her  creed,  it  stood  her  in 
good  stead. 

Her  own  arms,  but  now  extended,  fell  at  her  sides. 
She  laughed  in  the  man's  face. 

"  Does  'ee  think  Pam's  same  as  she  used  to  be  afore 
that  day?  No,  no!  'Ee's  a  coward,  'ee  is." 

"  Bah,  Pamela !  Listen.  Would  you  rather  have 

seen  me  dead  than "  Charteris  jumped  from 

the  table,  his  blood  afire,  and  came  nearer  to 
her. 

"  Than  here  near  you — so  near  that  I  can  bid  you 
listen  to  my  heart  beating  for  you,  Pam  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  scornfully:  through  her  mind 


72  PAMELA    CONOR  EVE 

ran  the  thought,  "  La,  but  mother's  prayin'  hard, 
hard." 

"  I  ain't  listenin'  to  thy  heart  now ;  but  'ee's  got  to 
listen  to  me.  Aye.  If  'ee  don't  right  the  one  'ee's 
wronged ! "  There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  now,  and 
she  halted. 

"  What  then?  "  he  inquired,  his  voice  harsh  and  his 
eyes  sobering. 

"  I'll  tell  it  all,"  she  answered  desperately. 

"  Who'd  believe  you  ?  "  he  gave  back  to  her  with  a 
smile.  "  Look  here,  Pam,  listen  to  reason."  Lord 
Charteris,  like  a  fair  proportion  of  his  sex,  had  the 
fixed  idea  that  money  spelled  reason  with  the  ma- 
jority of  the  Fair;  he  took  out  his  purse,  while  the 
girl  eyed  it  and  him  curiously.  "  Here's  money,  now 
go  you  up  to  London :  get  learning,  how  to  read  and 
write  and  cipher ;  ribbons  and  fallals  will  not  be  want- 
ing yonder;  and  hark,  you  and  I'll  meet  in  town. 
I'll  seek  you  out  when  you're  in  a  sensibler  humour. 
Tarry  not  here,  but  out  of  this  neighbourhood  as 
soon  as  you  can  go.  'Tis  too  near  to  Chilton. 
Here !  "  He  tendered  the  purse. 

"  Does  'ee  fancy  I  has  a  scales  with  my  heart  one 
side  of  't  and  gold  t'other?  Keep  your  guineas  for 
the  beggars.  I  ain't  one  of  'em  yet." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  73 

He  played  his  last  card. 

He  stooped  to  kiss  her. 

She  sprang  away — away,  although  the  tempta- 
tion was  unmistakable  and  she  but  a  child  yet,  as  the 
ways  of  the  world  go. 

"  No?  "  he  asked  gently.     "  Ah,  Pam !  " 

"  No,"  she  answered.  "  Save  your  kisses  for  the 
lady  of  quality  you're  a-courting,"  and  Pam  plucked 
Lady  Betty's  feather  from  her  hair  and  swept  it 
across  her  face,  mimicking  her  ladyship  to  the 
life. 

"  What  do  you  know  of  her?  "  cried  Charteris, 
amused  at  the  counterfeit  as  well  as  staggered  by  the 
announcement.  "What  do  you  mean?  What  are 
you  talking  about,  Pam?  " 

"  I  mean,"  said  she,  now  catching  at  the  methods 
she  found  within  her  grasp,  all  her  outraged  soul 
quivering  in  her  voice,  "  I  mean  'ee  says  if  I  tell  folk 
the  truth  no  one  '11  believe  me,  but  if  I  tells  the 
young  lady  how  you  courted  me,  what  then  ?  " 

"  Zounds,  Pam !  Don't  be  a  fool,  girl.  I  care 
nothing  for  that  young  lady;  her  fortune  may  be 
necessary  to  me — that's  all." 

"  'Ee'll  marry  her?  " 

"  Fancy  I  shall  have  to — you  know  what  my  losses 


74  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

have  been  yonder,"  he  jerked  his  head  in  the  direction 

of  the  sea. 

"  'Ee  shan't !  "  she  cried  fiercely. 

"What!"  he  ejaculated  with  a  laugh*.  "How 
could  you  prevent  it  ?  " 

"  By  tellin'  her  as  you  don't  care  for  her,  and  how 
long  you've  been  a-going  wi'  me !  " 

Lord  Charteris  laughed  again,  but  at  the  same 
time  his  lips  tightened  and  he  seized  Pamela  by  the 
wrists. 

"  Don't  'ee  touch  me ! "  she  cried,  shuddering  as 
she  shook  herself  free  of  him.  "  Never  let  that  right 
hand  o'  thine  meet  my  flesh  again.  Don't  'ee  know 
why  I'm  goin'  to  tell  her  'ee  doesn't  love  her?  Don't 
'ee  know  why  I'm  bound  to  make  'ee  suffer  if  I  can? 
God  A'mighty!  I'd  make  'ee  swing  and  pull  the 
noose  tight  about  yer  neck,  if  I  could.  'Ee  shall 
suffer,  'ee  shall,  as  'ee's  made  another  suffer,  an'  more, 
if  Pam  can  fetch  it !  " 

"  You  don't  dare,"  said  he,  almost  tremulously. 

"  Don't  I? "  she  cried,  snatching  at  the  pink 
feather  again,  and  striking  him  full  in  the  face.  "  I 
dare  anything." 

"  I'll  tell  them  who  you  are,  and  they  '11  kick  you 
out." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  75 

"  Do  it ! "  she  flung  back  at  him.  "  But  before 
'ee  gets  the  chance,  I'll  to  her  ladyship,  and  have  ray 
say."  She  darted  across  to  the  door,  Charteris  after 
her  to  bar  her  way. 

"  Para,  off  with  you,  silent,  or  I  swear  I'll  have 
you  put  in  jail." 

"And  when  I  gets  out  o'  jail,  won't  my  legs  be 
left  me  to  walk  to  Land's  End,  if  need  be,  an'  find  her 
and  tell  her,  then  ?  " 

"By  Gad,  I'll  choke  you!" 

They  were  standing  now,  face  to  face,  before  the 
closed  door  near  the  chimney-place. 

"  Try  it ! "  she  answered ;  but  he  did  not  touch 
her  yet ;  the  light  in  her  eyes  was  still  too  much  for 
him. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said,  reaching  out  his  left  hand  to 
the  old  oak  wainscot  on  the  wall,  and  feeling  cau- 
tiously along  its  polished  surface;  then,  finding 
what  he  sought,  he  pressed  hard,  put  his  knee  to 
the  wood,  and  the  panel  slid  back,  creaking  in  its 
groove. 

A  gust  of  foul,  damp  air  rushed  out  in  the  girl's 
face,  for  he  touched  her  now,  and  dragged  her  with 
all  his  strength  to  the  gloomy  opening. 
.  "  If  you  don't  promise  me  to  hold  your  tongue," 


76  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

he  muttered,  "  I'll  thrust  you  in !  'Tis  a  secret  pas- 
sage to  the  cave,  full  of  windings,  maybe  of  death. 
Your  father  knew  it,  'twas  he  showed  it  to  me.  Will 
you  promise?  " 

"  No ! "  she  screamed,  with  a  spring  away  from 
him,  overcoming  his  brief  mastery. 

"  Then  I'll  kill  you !  "  cried  Charteris,  beside  him- 
self, as  he  let  the  panel  fly  back  in  its  place.  Out 
came  the  dagger  which  he  had  learned  to  carry  from 
long  comradeship  with  those  who  did  so,  and  flashed 
for  a  moment  above  her.  With  her  lithe  and  supple 
strength  Pamela  half  wrenched  it  from  him,  so  that 
both  their  hands  were  locked  upon  the  hilt.  He  tried 
to  turn  it  on  her,  all  the  brute  in  him  uppermost 
when  opposed.  She,  with  her  youth  and  purpose 
at  her  bidding,  every  ounce  of  her  blood  pulsating 
for  the  mastery,  had  but  one  thought — of  venge- 
ance on  the  man  she  had  loved. 

At  last,  with  a  groan  of  exhaustion,  Charteris  suc- 
cumbed. The  girl  tightened  her  grasp  upon  the 
weapon,  and  turned  it  on  her  foe.  He  staggered, 
reeled,  fell  upon  the  sofa.  "  Devil !  "  he  gasped,  as 
he  sank  down,  face  upturned. 

"  Nay,  no  devil ! "  she  answered  under  breath, 
"  only  a  woman  as  loved  a  man  and  believed  in  him." 


PAMELA  CONGREVE  77 

Charteris  gasped.  His  face  turned  grey,  and  his 
hands  fell  limply  at  his  side. 

"  La,  God  A'mighty ! "  she  cried,  the  dagger  in 
her  hand.  "  He's  dead,  dead — too." 

For  a  second  there  was  physical  triumph  in  her 
aspect ;  then  she  remembered  the  dagger,  and  flung 
it  beneath  the  couch. 

"  I'm  glad,  I  am !  Now  he  knows  what  'tis  to 
have  life  took  from  him,  too."  Then  she  looked 
around,  and  thought  of  things  and  people.  "  What 
'11  I  do?  Where '11  I  go?  What '11  I  say  when  any- 
one comes  ?  " 

At  that  instant  someone  came.  It  was  Lady 
Betty's  other  suitor,  the  Duke  of  Harlowe,  who  en- 
tered the  yard. 

"  Hey !  "  cried  he  gaily.  "  Who's  about?  "  Per- 
ceiving Charteris'  coat  in  the  window-sill,  he  touched 
it,  and  made  to  enter  the  parlour. 

But  the  figure  of  the  girl  whom  he  saw  standing 
there  near  the  couch,  her  back  to  him,  made  him  halt. 

There  is  a  spiritual  essence  about  such  women  that 
moulds  men  to  their  will,  and  even  makes  then  enam- 
oured of  the  thraldom. 

"  Is  the  gentleman  to  whom  this  coat  belongs 
here  ?  "  he  asked. 


78  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  I  don't  see  him?  do  you?  " 

"  Nay,  and  I'd  rather  see  you,  my  lass ! "  an- 
swered the  Duke,  while  she  trembled,  lest  he  should 
approach. 

"  Keep  your  distance,"  she  replied.  "  I'm  sick 
o'  men." 

"  Then  I  would  be  a  boy  again  for  your  sweet 
sake,"  and  he  laughed  with  pleasure. 

"  What's  your  name  ?  "  he  pursued. 

"  None  of  your  affairs." 

"  I  like  your  wit.  Your  tongue's  sweet  sauced  to 
suit  me.  Let  me  have  one  glimpse  of  your  face." 
He  advanced  a  step  only,  still  unconsciously  meeting 
her  will. 

She  stood  still,  but  reached  for  the  broom  leaning 
against  the  table,  and  with  it  caught  the  cloak  from 
the  sill,  and  cast  it  deftly  over  the  prostrate  form. 

"  Look  you,  master  stranger,"  said  Pam.  "  The 
man  underneath  this  cloak's  'twixt  me  and  any 
other  that  breathes  forever  more.  Get  you  away, 
quick." 

"  Oho ! "  laughs  he.  "  That's  the  way  the  land  lies, 
is  it  ?  Fare  you  well,  then,  my  girl !  I'll  always  wish 
I'd  seen  your  face,  though,  for  you've  the  shoulders 
of  a  duchess  and  a  voice  as  soft  as  silk."  And  the 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  79 

Duke  of  Harlowe  made  off  to  find  his  friends  in  the 
dining-room. 

For  a  second,  until  his  footfalls  were  lost,  Pam 
stood  still. 

"  I'll  go,"  she  whispered.  "  I'll  run  down  to  the 
sea,  and  throw  myself  in  and  end  it  all.  Nay,  I  can't. 
I'll  tarry.  I  ha'  done  a  murder.  I'll  bide  the  judg- 
ment— no  matter  if  'twas  him  as  provoked  me,  I'll 
bide."  Her  fingers  clung  to  the  back  of  a  wooden 
chair. 

"  They'll  catch  me  here,  and  try  me,  and  hang 
me."  She  spoke  with  a  panting  rush,  and  shrank  as 
she  spoke. 

"  The  gibbet !  Oh,  God,  no !  No,  I  cannot  bide !  " 
She  cowered  like  a  hunted  creature  beside  the  chair. 

When  Meg,  tiptoeing,  came  into  the  yard,  she 
beheld  Pamela,  and  fell  to  laughing,  choking  it  back 
as  she  pulled  Doddington  across  and  pointed  in. 
"Look,  will  ye?  Pam's  a-praying!" 

"  I  ain't,"  she  cried,  springing  up.  "  I  dropped 
my  brooch,"  and  she  pinned  her  kerchief  closer  about 
her  as  she  turned,  running  up  to  the  two  at  the 
arch. 

*'  I'm  a-goin'  with  ye  now,  right  off." 

"  Joy ! "  cries  Meg.     "  Now's  the  time  for  you 


80  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

to  escape.  Three  gallants  more  came,  but  now,  in 
a  private  room  upstairs,  more's  the  pity!  Mistress 
Dormer  has  no  eyes  for  any  but  her  guests.  I'll 
run  and  tell  Jess,"  and  the  volatile  stroller  capered 
off  to  the  yard. 

"  You're  going  with  me,  Pam?  "  whispers  Heath- 
cote. 

"  I'm  goin'."  There  is  a  feverish  quickness  to  her 
speech  as  she  takes  her  shawl  from  its  peg  near  the 
arch. 

"  No  matter  about  your  duds,"  says  the  man. 
"  I'll  buy  you  more  than  ever  you  saw  before  in  your 
life.  Just  take  something  to  cover  your  face,  so 
Mistress  Dormer  shall  not  catch  you."  Heathcote 
looked  into  the  parlour,  spied  the  cloak  covering 
Charteris  so  completely  as  to  leave  no  outline  of  his 
figure.  "  This  '11  do !  "  he  cried,  darting  to  lay  his 
hand  upon  it. 

Pamela  swiftly  followed  him,  her  fingers  over  his 
so  quickly  that  he  had  not  a  moment  to  think  or  act. 

"  Not  that,"  she  said  harshly,  compelling  his  hand 
away  with  her  own,  not  by  strength,  but  merely  by 
contact  and  will. 

She  turned  him  away  from  the  unsuspected  pros- 
trate form,  a  smile  upon  her  lips  now,  as  she  pulled 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  81 

his  handkerchief  from  his  throat.  "  I'd  rather  this 
a  thousand  times,  Master  Heathcote,"  and  she  tied 
it  over  her  head,  covering  her  eyes  nearly  and  her 
lips. 

"  Would  you,  sweetheart  ?  "  he  cried,  enraptured, 
catching  her  up  in  his  arms,  and  running  out  with 
her  into  the  twilight  where  the  coach  stood  awaiting 
the  passengers.  He  lifted  her  to  a  seat,  and  then,  no 
matter  for  the  busy  crowd  elbowing,  pushing,  chat- 
tering, swearing,  as  they  resumed  their  seats;  no 
matter  for  the  peer  of  the  realm,  who  stood  at  an 
upper  window,  trying  his  best  to  spy  out  the  girlish 
figure  he  had  seen,  and  to  discover  the  face  he  had 
not  seen,  and  failing  at  both;  no  matter  for  any- 
thing, Heathcote  thought,  as  he  gathered  Pamela's 
two  little  feet  in  his  hands  and  kissed  them,  then 
swung  himself  up  beside  her. 

"  Merry  shall  thy  dance  be  in  gay  London  Town," 
he  said  gaily. 

"  London  Town ! "  echoed  she  under  her  breath. 
"  Where  the  ribbons  and  fallals  be.  The  learnin', 
the  readin',  and  the  writin',  and  the  cipherin' ! " 

A  quiver  in  the  voice,  a  sob  smothered  in  a  burst 
of  rippling  laughter,  a  heart  that  beat  as  though  it 
would  break,  and  Heathcote,  Meg,  Peter  Twiss,  the 


82  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

whole  company  of  the  players,  within  and  without 

the  coach,  bursting  into  song  of 

"  When  Phyllis  would  a-shopping  go." 

Pelham,  Lord  Charteris,  heard  them  as  he  slowly 
disembarrassed  himself  from  the  folds  of  his  cloak, 
contrived  very  well  to  sit  upright;  picked  up  his 
dagger,  and  replaced  it  in  its  accustomed  pocket; 
joined  whistling  in  with  the  merry  lilt  of  the  fair 
Phyllis;  rose,  adjusted  his  wig  and  ruffles;  poured 
himself  a  mug  of  wine;  and,  not  by  any  means  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life,  reflected  upon  the  extraor- 
dinary facility  with  which  a  gentleman  of  parts  can 
extricate  himself  from  unpleasant,  even  dangerous 
situations  by  a  measure  of  coolness  and  the  apt  em- 
bracing of  his  opportunities. 

After  washing  and  perfuming  his  hands,  laying 
a  silk  pocket  napkin  soaked  in  rum  over  the  prick  in 
his  side,  giving  his  hat  the  cock,  and  his  cloak 
the  swing  over  his  shoulder  and  sword,  Lord  Char- 
teris walked  out  of  the  parlour  of  the  Greene  Shippe 
up  to  the  company  of  Lady  Betty  and  the  rest, 
posing  wan,  and  somewhat  melancholy  from  a  wound 
in  the  heart  side,  how  received,  no  one  could  persuade 
him  to  tell. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  83 

Not  long  afterward  his  lordship  went  over  to 
France  for  the  betterment  of  his  health,  and  more 
particularly  to  avoid  that  choice  of  disasters,  either 
imprisonment  for  debt,  or  a  marriage  with  Lady 
Betty  Wyndham. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   SWEET-ACRE 

A  TWELVEMONTH  and  more  had  gone  by 
since  Doddington  Heathcote  and  his  com- 
pany of  players  had  left  the  Greene  Shippe 
for  London.  Pamela  and  Jess  had  at  first  found 
lodging  with  a  cheesemonger's  family  in  Long  Lane, 
near  West  Smithfield,  but  very  soon  had  removed  to 
quarters  near  the  theatre  in  Gooseberry  Lane  over 
the  Rose,  where  Monsieur  Gimbart,  the  perfumer, 
swung  out  his  sign  of  a  full-blown  Tudor  flower  above 
a  window  full  of  "  Genuine  Bear's  Grease,  ladies' 
hair  dyes,  Parisian  soaps,  magic  washes,  vegetable 
gloves  for  the  preservation  of  the  Fair,  lemon  po- 
made, milk  of  roses,  sweet  scents  of  primrose,  jessa- 
mine, cowslip ;  Venus  oil,  rouge  from  Milan ;  patches 
from  Genoa,  a  gentil  assortment  of  Italian  muslins, 
Sarcanets,  Radzimores,  Barcelona  handkerchiefs, 
taffetas,  gauzes,  and  other  delicate  stuffs  for  the 
making  of  veils,  turbans,  hoods,  and  such." 

84 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  85 

Monsieur  Gimbart,  with  his  wife  and  son  God- 
frey, had  quarters  back  of  the  shop.  Upstairs  was 
the  laboratory ;  next  to  it,  under  the  roof,  were  the 
rooms  that  Pam  and  Jess  lived  in  when  they  were  not 
at  the  playhouse. 

Godfrey,  a  slim  lad,  was  sure  he  had  a  vocation  to 
become  an  actor,  since  at  the  age  of  one  year  he 
had  been  lent  to  Drury  Lane  to  appear  as  the  Stolen 
Infant  in  the  drama  of  The  Lost  Heir,  but  was  re- 
strained from  his  ambition  by  his  father,  and  pinned 
down  to  the  compounding  of  unguents  and  perfumes 
in  the  garret. 

It  was,  after  all,  not  such  a  bad  place  to  be  an 
apprentice  in.  The  oval  window  looked  out  like  a 
large  eye  upon  a  fair  pleasaunce — the  Sweet-Acre, 
which  had  once  belonged  to  the  Worshipful  Com- 
pany of  Apothecaries,  where  for  many  years  roses, 
violets,  marjoram,  lavender,  thyme  had  shed  their 
fragrance.  Even  now  in  spring,  daffodils  and 
peonies,  lilies  and  gilliflowers  bloomed  out  amidst 
all  the  rankness  of  the  weeds;  limes  and  cherries, 
quinces  and  damascenes  rioted  in  season;  large  mul- 
berry trees  cast  their  shadows  on  the  neglected  grass 
plots  and  the  green  and  dank  mossed  paths.  Such 
a  garden  had  once  been  an  apt  spot  for  the  rumina- 


86  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

tions  and  concoctions  of  the  apothecaries,  but  they 
had  outgrown  so  small  a  space,  and  given  back  their 
lease  to  the  owner  of  the  land,  Sir  Francis  Spencer 
of  the  Guards,  to  whose  adjoining  house  the  Sweet- 
Acre  had  been  originally  a  pleasure  garden.  Now, 
house  and  garden  alike  deserted,  Sir  Francis  in 
prison  for  debt,  his  family  down  in  Devonshire  living 
on  the  scantiest  commons,  and  not  a  purchaser  or 
even  a  tenant  to  be  found  for  the  house,  it  was  free 
to  the  lodgers  whom  Monsieur  Gimbart  entertained 
in  his  garret. 

Right  or  wrong,  Pam  frequented  the  Sweet-Acre, 
loved  it  for  its  breath  of  bloom,  and  waft  of  country 
patches  of  good  brown  earth,  its  remoteness  in  the 
midst  of  din.  She  loved  to  stare  at  the  high  pali- 
sades and  hedge  that  guarded  it  from  the  bustle  of 
Gooseberry  Lane;  at  the  windows  of  Sir  Francis' 
house,  all  closely  shuttered  and  draped  with  cob- 
webs, yards  long,  dangling  in  the  summer  breeze; 
vowed  in  her  heart  that  some  day  she'd  lease  the 
house  herself,  when  she  had  made  a  hit  at  the  theatre, 
and  turn  the  Sweet-Acre  once  more  into  the  paradise 
it  must  have  been  long  ago;  loved  to  perch  in  the 
tallest  mulberry  tree,  and  find  the  one  glimpse  of  the 
Thames  to  be  had ;  to  dream  of  the  river's  wind  out  to 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  87 

the  sea;  to  go  back  sixteen  months  to  a  night  at  the 
Greene  Shippe;  in  her  weak,  blind  fashion,  to  pray 
that  the  man  she  had  left  there  stricken  by  her  blow 
was  not  dead. 

Pam  could  not  believe  that  he  was.  Although 
entirely  ignorant  of  his  title  and  position,  she  felt 
sure  that,  had  his  corpse  been  discovered  in  the  Inn 
parlour,  the  echo  of  the  story  would  have  reached 
her  ears.  It  never  had.  This  was  what  she  believed  in 
the  daylight,  out  in  the  Sweet-Acre,  but  at  the  play- 
house at  night  the  old  haunting  fear  possessed  her 
young  soul,  and  made  her  glad  her  lines  lay  in  the 
midst  of  the  movement  and  mirth,  the  careless  jollity 
of  the  greenroom  and  the  stage. 

Pam  had  got  learning.  Twiss,  the  son  of  a  par- 
son, and  college-bred,  who  taught  her,  swore  that 
never  was  such  an  apt  scholar.  In  no  time  at  all 
she  had  mastered  the  reading  and  writing,  though 
she  showed  no  head  at  all  for  figures ;  yet  at  music, 
singing,  dancing,  she  fully  made  it  up,  and  Heath- 
cote  very  well  knew  that,  once  the  girl  got  her  chance 
to  show  what  she  could  do,  the  town  would  be  at  her 
beck. 

The  chance  was  not  far  off  now,  since,  by  the 
showing  of  the  prints  posted  up  at  the  coffee-houses 


88  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

and  elsewhere,  "  Mrs.  Bicknell  was  to  have  her  bene- 
fit on  the  twelfth  of  the  current  month,  when  was  to 
be  acted  The  Man  of  Fashion,  The  Venturesome 
Valet,  and  Mistress  Molly;  in  the  first  two  pieces 
Mrs.  Bicknell  herself  to  appear ;  in  the  last  a  young 
lady  to  make  her  debut,  Mistress  Pamela  Congreve, 
in  the  title  role." 

Not  that  Pam  was  "  on  the  twelfth  of  the  cur- 
rent month  "  to  tread  the  boards  of  Covent  Garden 
for  the  first  time;  the  night  after  she  had  reached 
London  she  had  gone  on  in  the  crowd  as  a  Grecian  girl 
in  the  tragedy  of  Helen  of  Troy,  and  not  a  day 
since,  save  Sundays,  had  she  missed  appearing  some- 
times with  a  few  words  to  say,  but  oftener  with  none 
— her  name  never  on  a  bill,  but  her  face  graven  on 
many  a  gallant's  heart,  while  she  was  safe-housed, 
now  studious,  now  merry,  now  remorseful,  and  filled 
with  fright,  up  in  Monsieur  Gimbart's  garret  with 
Jess. 

So  it  was  really  a  debut  that  Heathcote  planned. 
Mrs.  Bicknell,  haughty  and  benevolent,  thought 
little  enough  of  the  blue-eyed,  dark-haired  slip 
of  a  girl  who  must  curtsey  down  to  the  ground  to 
such  a  great  artist  as  she,  and  seldom  get  a  nod  in 
return. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  89 

The  morning  was  just  peeping  over  the  mists 
of  the  city  into  the  Sweet-Acre.  As  it  crept  on,  pink 
and  scented  with  spring,  Pam  left  Jess  sleeping 
soundly,  and  stole,  book  in  hand,  down  the  rickety 
stairs.  Yet  her  footfall  was  not  so  light  that  it  did 
not  waken  Godfrey  on  his  pallet  in  the  musty  labora- 
tory. Up  he  sprang,  rubbing  his  eager  boy's  eyes,  to 
the  window,  pushing  out  the  swinging  pane  to  behold 
his  divinity,  for  the  lad,  in  his  stolid  way,  worshipped 
her.  Pamela  walked  forth  into  the  cool  rapture  of 
the  dawn,  smock  open-throated,  the  dews  dripping 
about  her  ankles,  the  smile  on  her  mouth  a  meet  wel- 
come to  the  fairest  hour  of  the  day. 

Godfrey,  his  elbows  on  the  sill,  his  chin  in  his 
palm,  watched  her  greedily.  She  soon  gained  her 
favoured  spot,  an  old  bench  at  the  foot  of  a  mul- 
berry tree ;  and  plucking  from  her  bosom  a  square  of 
looking-glass  she  stuck  it  in  a  notch,  drew  out  the 
bench  upon  the  grass,  so  that,  when  sitting,  she  could 
best  see  her  own  reflection,  and  then,  shutting  the 
book,  with  her  finger  slipped  within  the  leaves,  Pam- 
ela began  to  rehearse  "  Mistress  Molly,"  with  such 
plenitude  of  fine-lady  airs  and  graces,  such  a  ripple 
of  mirth,  such  an  abundance  of  oglings,  sighings, 
swoonings,  as  presently  put  Godfrey  into  a  frenzy 


90  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

of  delight,  so  that  he  could  hardly  restrain  himself 
from  clapping  and  huzzaing. 

"  Nay,  now,  that  was  not  well  done ! "  cried 
Pamela,  shaking  her  head  at  her  own  presentment  in 
the  mirror.  "  Let  me  see  if  I  cannot  better  it  by 
standing  up,  so,"  and  she  altered  the  place  of  the 
looking-glass  in  the  tree  to  suit  her  position,  which 
was  now  aloft  on  the  bench. 

"  Mistress  Molly,  new  come  to  the  country,  leaving 
scores  of  suitors  up  in  town ;  all  she'd  favoured,  one 
she'd  flouted,  these  her  smiles  and  him  her  frown; 
but,  of  course,  the  swain  she'd  scouted  was  the  swain 
she  did  adore!  Pickle  was  to  make  him  know  it; 
men  are  stupid  at  such  lore.  Molly  now  contrived  a 
fashion  (for  this  swain  had  followed  her),  and  forth- 
with she  planned  a  battle  where  she  meant  to  surely 
score."  So  Pam  rehearsed  the  argument,  bursting 
into  a  peal  of  merry  laughter  as  she  reached  these 
words;  then  flipping  the  page,  and  reading  on: 
"  Enter  Lord  Diffident.  I  pretend  not  to  see  him, 
and  continue  to  sing." 

The  tune  she  sang  was  the  very  one  that  Heath- 
cote  had  played  for  her  to  dance  to  long  ago  at  the 
Inn;  the  words  were  Surrey  Beauclerc's,  and  here 
they  are: 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  91 

Phyllis  would  a-shopping  go; 
At  her  chair  a  string  of  beaux. 
Would  she  buy  on  credit  long? 
Sing  fa-la,  oh,  merry  song! 


Phyllis  bought  perfumes  and  gloves, 
'Broidered  o'er  with  little  doves; 
Bought  a  ferret  cap  and  fan; 
Milk  of  roses  for  her  tan. 
Bought  a  swan-skin  cloak  and  hood; 
Tried  'em  on  there,  as  she  stood, 
In  her  chair,  the  little  minx! 
Watching  her  with  eyes  of  lynx, 
All  those  sighing,  gallant  swains 
Hugging  each  fair  Phyllis'  chains. 
Bought  a  turban  decked  with  pearls, 
And  a  ribbon  for  her  curls. 
Oil  of  lemons,  scented  soaps, 
Cowslip  essence  for  her  mopes. 

Then,  her  chairman  got  the  word,— 
Every  gallant  also  heard, — 
"Bear  me  straightly  to  the  Cock!" 
After  her  the  whole  gay  flock. 
Phyllis  here  bought  tanse  tarts; 
Potted  wheat  ears,  sugar  darts; 
Hartshorn  jellies,  gingerbread; 
Godivean  pies  and  comfits  red. 
"  Hence ! "  she  ordered.    "  Racket  Court, 
H.  Pugh's  Shop ! "    Whereat  she  bought 
Pins  of  silver  and  shagreen, 
Things  beloved  of  sweet  eighteen! 
All  those  gallants  hov'ring  'round, 
Save  but  one,  could  not  be  found! 
Phyllis  looked  in  vain  for  him: 
Such  was  ever  lady's  whim! 


92  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

She  will  pine  for  that  she's  not, 
Pout  and  flout  her  present  lot. 


Phyllis  home  from  shopping  hied, 
While  her  smiles  her  heart  belied; 
"Go!"  she  ordered  every  swain; 
"Tarry  not,  'tis  all  in  vain; 
My  humour's  poor  for  plaints  and  sighs, 
I  swear  not  one  of  ye  I  prize ! " 
Fain  these  gallants  were  to  roam, 
Far  from  Phyllis  and  her  home. 
Each  downcast  and  drooping  Sir, 
Mauled  and  mangled  all  for  her. 

At  her  threshold  Phyllis  found, 

Bowing  down  unto  the  ground, 

That  lost  Him  she'd  sought  in  vain, 

Just  anon  amidst  her  train. 

Smiling  now,  eyes  dancing  so, 

Phyllis  still  would  shopping  go. 

"  Nay ! "  cried  he,  "  I  pray  you,  Sweet ! " 

Down  he  kneels  at  Phyllis'  feet — 

"  I  will  wager  aught  you  say, 

You  have  bought  something  to-day, 

Not  with  pennies,  shillings,  pounds, 

Yet,  'tis  patent,  madam,  zounds! 

With  a  smile,  you've  purchased  me, 

Body,  heart,  and  soul;  all  three  I" 

Phyllis  laughed  a  merry  while, 

Blushing,  coying,  sweetest  guile. 

"  Ah,"  cried  he,  "  I  pray  you,  hark, 

Come  with  me  across  the  Park? 

I  would  fain  a-shopping  go; 

To  the  goldsmith's  in  Soho. 

I  would  buy  an  endless  thing 

Like  my  love;  Sweet  lips,  a  ring!" 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  93 

Phyllis  would  a-shopping  go, 
At  her  chair  a  string  of  beaux; 
Would  she  buy  on  credit  long? 
Sing  fa-la,  oh,  merry  song. 
"  Sing  fa-la  " — the  lost  one  cries 
"  I  have  got  the  greater  prize. 
Spendthrift  you  of  guineas,  crowns, 
Buying  fallals,  brooches,  gowns! 
I  that  would  give  all  the  earth, 
Counting  it  as  little  worth, 
Still  have  bought  me,  credit  long, 
Dearest  she,  Oh,  sing  the  song! 

Fa-la-la — Love's  never  wrong — 
Fa-la-la — never  wrong — never  wrong! 

By  this  time  it  was  seven  o'clock,  and  the  Square 
was  beginning  to  stir.  Gooseberry  Lane  was  not 
without  its  interests  at  that  hour  of  the  morning. 
Here  came  footmen,  guiding  their  masters  home 
after  a  merry  night  at  Will's ;  fruit-peddlers  hawk- 
ing apples  and  plums ;  milk-girls  with  their  cows  and 
pails,  and  now  a  gallant  turning  the  corner  on  his 
way,  doubtless  by  the  short-cut,  to  Princess  Street. 
There  could  be  little  question  how  he  had  spent  the 
night,  since  there  were'  wine-stains  on  his  ruffles, 
a  dent  in  his  hat,  and  dark  rings  under  his  hand- 
some eyes.  Alas !  there  was  little  else  handsome 
about  him :  a  creature  dwarfed  in  stature,  and  with  a 
hump  on  his  back,  yet  bearing  in  his  head  those  twin 


94  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

resplendent  stars  that  spoke  truly  of  the  beauty  of 
his  soul. 

Coming  nearer,  he  caught  the  floating  echo  of 
Pam's  song ;  nearer  yet,  and  he  discerned  the  lilt  and 
tenor  of  the  words ;  his  own !  and  recognition  brought 
him  to  a  halt,  a  smile  of  joy  upon  his  lips,  for  never, 
so  he  inwardly  swore,  had  he  heard  a  voice  so  be- 
witching as  this.  Merrily  it  rang  out  once  more : 

"Phyllis  would  a-shopping  go, 
At  her  chair  a  string  of  beaux!" 

The  gentleman  crossed  to  the  other  side  of  the 
lane,  and  made  his  way  cautiously  along  by  the 
iron  palisade  until  he  came  to  the  gates.  The  bolt 
was  broken,  the  pin  rusting  on  the  ground;  it  was 
easy  to  push  the  barrier  softly  back  upon  its  hinges ; 
there  was  none  to  hear  but  Godfrey  Gimbart, 
and  he  was  too  engrossed  with  Pamela  to  note 
anything  else.  The  threshold  of  the  garden  thus 
once  gained,  the  hunchback  thrust  aside  the  thick 
matting  of  the  hedge,  and  presently,  through  the 
break  thus  made,  gained  his  first  glimpse  of  Pam- 
ela, now  sitting  with  her  back  to  him,  the  play- 
book  beside  her;  in  her  uplifted  hands  the  square  of 
looking-glass.  She  was  laughing,  coquetting  with 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  95 

her  own  delicious  counterpart;  sometimes  rippling 
from  song  into  mere  speech,  as  she  turned  her  head 
now  this  side,  and  now  that,  studying  the  effect. 

"  Heathcote  would  have  me  take  a  strident  tone  like 
Mistress  Bicknell,  and  rate  Lord  Diffident  for  his 
apparent  lack  of  warmth,  but  'tis  not  so  I'll  play  Mis- 
tress Molly,  although  I  do  humour  him  into  believing 
that  I  shall.  «  Enter  Lord  Diffident.'  " 

A  step  nearer  came  the  hunchback,  his  eyes  fas- 
tened on  Pam,  as  if  ensnared. 

"  Then  I  shall  not  even  look  up,  rise,  or  show  by 
so  much  as  the  quiver  of  an  eyelash  that  I  know  he's 
arrived.  There's  nothing  so  cures  a  man's  lack  of 
courage  as  to  give  him  everything  to  do,  nor  help 
him  an  inch  to  his  desire.  Seeing  it  so  remote,  he 
will  forthwith  begin  to  long  and  strive  for  it  all  the 
more !  "  Then  Pam  laughed  all  to  herself. 

"  I  shall  say  it  quite  casual,  eyes  still  bent  upon 
my  'broidery  frame,  *  Who  comes  ?  '  and  when  he  an- 
swers I  shall  keep  my  seat,  nor  stretch  forth  my 
hand,  nor  aught  else,  save  send  my  silk-reel  rolling. 
He  chases  it — I  laugh  fit  to  kill — he  fetches  it  with 
bow  profound,  and  then  I'll  say  indifferently,  biting 
off  my  thread,  and  holding  up  my  needle,  '  Sir,  shall 
we  not  shake  hands  ? '  " 


96  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Much  nearer  crept  the  gentleman  with  the  wine- 
stained  ruffles,  his  lips  curving  into  involuntary 
smiles. 

"  His  finger-tips  meet  mine,"  continued  she.  "  He 
flushes,  stumbles,  stammers,  forgets  whatever  'twas 
he  meant  to  say.  I  laugh,  do  not  withdraw  my  hand, 
look  up  into  his  eyes " 

Pamela  glanced  into  the  mirror,  and  with  a  shriek 
caught  sight  of  the  face  of  the  hunchback  peering 
into  it  over  her  own  fair  bare  shoulder. 

Godfrey  stood  glued  to  his  casement  open- 
mouthed,  too  slow  to  move  as  yet;  but  a  gentleman 
also  strolling  home  from  White's,  his  pockets  light 
as  his  heart,  heard  Pam's  scream.  To  him  nothing 
seemed  so  pleasurable  as  to  fly  to  the  assistance  of 
Beauty  in  distress.  A  slash  into  the  hedge  with  his 
sword,  a  plunge  through  the  undergrowth,  a  quick 
stride,  a  strong  arm  raised  above  Pamela,  a  slip  of 
steel  flashing  in  the  first  burst  of  that  day's  sunshine, 
and  two  men  looked  at  each  other;  the  hunchback, 
hat  in  hand,  bowing  to  the  ground  before  Pam,  who 
was  terrified  into  a  complete  silence. 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  "  I  humbly  sue  for  pardon. 
Lured  by  the  witchery  of  your  voice,  I  ventured  in, 
lured  still  further  by  the  magic  of  your  face  and 


"Peering  into  it  over  her  own  fair  bare  shoulder." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  97 

form,  I  unconsciously  advanced,  as  even  devils  will 
to  the  very  gates  of  Paradise.  Prithee,  Sir  De- 
fender," laughing  into  the  other's  face,  "  present  me 
to  the  Fair  whom  you  would  rescue  from  this  mon- 
ster ! "  and  he  tapped  his  hump  with  the  tip  of  his 
blade  with  a  sardonic,  yet  pitiful,  smile  of  self -de- 
rision. 

"  Madam,"  returned  the  other,  sheathing  his 
sword,  and  also  bowing  profoundly,  "  I  present  to 
you  the  Honourable  Surrey  Beauclerc,  poet,  prince 
of  good  fellows,  brave  blade,  reckless  gamester,  wor- 
shipped of  the  Fair,  wit,  fop,  gentleman  from  crown 
to  heel!" 

Beauclerc  bowed  while  Pamela,  for  the  first  time, 
turned  to  look  at  the  speaker,  and  their  eyes  met. 

The  lives  of  some  men  are  but  an  interrogatory  up 
to  a  certain  point;  it  is  when  they  encounter  a  cer- 
tain woman.  She  is  the  Answer. 

Flushing  deepest  rose  beneath  the  ardent  gaze  of 
those  intense  eyes,  Pamela  in  a  flash  remembered  a 
voice  she  had  heard  the  night  she  quitted  the  Greene 
Shippe;  remembered  her  replies  to  the  unseen  ques- 
tioner; remembered,  and  was  seized  with  the  terror 
that  usually  only  overcame  her  at  the  fall  of  night. 
She  caught  her  smock  together  at  the  throat,  and 


98  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

fled  across  the  Sweet-Acre  into  the  shop,  her  long 
curls  flying  after  her,  her  little  white  heels  twinkling 
in  and  out  among  the  grasses,  nor  did  she  pause 
until  she  had  gained  the  garret  where  Jess  still 
slept. 

Then  Godfrey  rattled  at  the  window  with  his 
pestle,  wagging  his  nightcapped  head,  and  cried: 
"Begone,  varlets!"  with  a  brave  mimicry  of  Twiss 
at  the  theatre,  yet  glad  he  was  safely  aloft. 

Both  gentlemen  looked  up;  then  both  laughed. 

"  And  who  are  you,  Sir  Valiant?  "  asked  Beau- 
clerc,  waving  his  blade. 

"  Please,  your  worship,"  said  Godfrey,  relapsing 
into  the  speech  of  every  day,  "  I'm  just  naught  but 
serving-man  to  her." 

"  And  who's  she?  "  pursues  the  hunchback,  as  Har- 
lowe  stood  silent,  but  all  ears  for  the  lad's  answer. 

"  A  player,  sir." 

"  A  player !  "  echoed  both  gentlemen  at  once. 

"  Here's  for  your  breakfast,  boy !  "  cried  the  Duke, 
aiming  a  sovereign  at  Godfrey's  palm,  which  closed 
deftly  upon  it.  "  A  player !  "  His  Grace  spied  and 
picked  up  the  book  Pamela  had  left  lying  on  the 
bench,  opened  it,  and  saw  written  there,  in  a  strag- 
gling hand,  "  Pamela  Congreve,  her  booke." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  99 

"  Pamela  Congreve !  "  he  murmured  softly  to  him- 
self, then  whipped  his  pencil  from  his  pocket  and 
scribbled  on  the  page :  "  The  venturesome  him  who 
dares  write  here  fain  would  be  the  book  of  her  whose 
it  is,  that  he  might  sometimes  know  her  touch,  her 
glance,  her  interest,  and  possession.  Harlowe."  He 
laid  it  gently  down,  and  cried  lightly: 

"  Come  along,  Beauclerc,  dear  fellow,  nor  waste 
three  good  hours  out  of  bed  any  further ! "  His 
Grace  swung  away  to  the  palisade,  out  through 
the  bramble  and  brush  into  Gooseberry  Lane,  some- 
thing singing  at  his  heart  he  had  never  known 
before. 

But  Beauclerc  did  not  follow  immediately.  In- 
stead, he  took  Pam's  square  of  looking-glass  and 
gazed  into  it:  he  did  not  see  his  own  image,  but 
rather  that  most  exquisite  face  of  hers.  Now  he 
pressed  his  lips  upon  it,  then  he  groaned,  and  dashed 
the  bauble  into  bits  upon  the  ground. 

"  'Tis  as  near  as  ever  I  can  hope  to  come  to  her 
sweet  flesh,"  he  murmured,  "  nor  can  I  even  dare  to 
tell  her  what  I  feel.  She  shrieked  at  sight  of  me. 
Me !  "  The  hunchback  shuddered,  and  his  lips  curled 
scornfully.  "  Me  that  would  give  all  my  blood  to 
make  her  happy!  Well,  well,  now,  Mr.  Beauclerc," 


100  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

as  he  emerged  from  the  Sweet-Acre  to  the  lane. 
"  Home,  sir !  Home ;  to  make  verses  and  reputa- 
tions, or  unmake  these  latter ;  to  bed  and  up  again ; 
to  dress  and  dine ;  to  ogle  twenty  ladies,  not  one  the 
peer  of  her  that's  but — a  player ! " 


CHAPTER  X 

LADY  BETTY  MAKES   UP  HER  MIND 

ON  the  llth  of  the  month  Pamela  went 
to  bed,  with  the  world  of  fashion 
little  recking  of  her  existence;  on  the 
morning  of  the  13th  she  awoke — on  the  12th  Mrs. 
Bicknell  had  had  her  great  benefit — to  find  her- 
self famous.  The  wits  and  beaux,  led,  one  may  be 
sure,  by  Surrey  Beauclerc,  pronounced  Pamela  the 
most  faultless  and  divine  creature  that  had  ever  trod 
the  boards  of  any  theatre  in  London,  the  ladies  vowed 
her  the  positive  mould  of  all  that  was  sweetest  upon 
which  to  hang  clothes,  which  became  her  as  they 
did  no  other;  the  King,  lolling  in  his  box,  swore  she 
was  heavenly ;  the  Princess  sent  her  an  etui  carved 
of  precious  ivories  inlaid  with  emeralds,  and  the 
number  of  jewels,  baubles,  flowers,  sweetmeats,  fur- 
belows, copies  of  verses,  manuscripts  of  plays,  which 
presently  cumbered  her  garret,  was  amazing. 

Doddington  Heathcote  was  the  happiest  manager, 
101 


102          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

if  the  unhappiest  man  in  town,  for  Pamela  was 
no  more  willing  to  listen  to  his  well-urged  suit  now 
than  she  had  been  at  the  Greene  Shippe;  yet  he  was 
that  lucky  person  in  whose  theatre  she  was  bound  by 
her  bond  to  act  exclusively  for  the  next  two  years. 

Mrs.  Bicknell  flounced  off  in  a  huff  to  Bath,  leav- 
ing the  field  clear,  and  into  her  roles  Pam  jumped 
with  a  vast  ease  and  audacity,  however  her  heart 
may  have  quaked  beneath  her  bodice. 

The  town  went  mad  for  her.  Tradesmen,  from 
bakers  up  to  Court  mantua-makers,  christened 
their  cakes  and  gimcracks,  their  hoods,  hoops,  es- 
sences, and  fichus  after  the  Congreve.  A  crowd  of 
fine  gentlemen  and  ladies,  'prentices,  milliners,  cour- 
tiers, rustics  come  to  town,  such  as  was  never  before 
seen  outside  of  a  Lord  Mayor's  show  or  a  coronation, 
jostled,  pushed,  scrambled,  fought  for  a  glimpse 
of  her  as  she  passed  in  and  out  of  the  stage  door,  or 
took  an  airing  in  the  park.  Presently,  there  was 
not  a  club,  coffee-house,  or  tea-table  that  chattered 
of  anything  but  the  new  beauty. 

Success  so  unparallelled,  the  town  swore,  was  never 
known  before,  nor  ever  borne  with  such  careless 
grace;  no  airs,  no  mincings,  no  delicate  dawdlings 
or  studied  posings,  but  simple  directness  in  her  words 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  103 

and  with  her  fellow-workers;  for  all  the  rest  of  it, 
Pam  laughed  and  tossed  back  her  curls,  and  fright- 
ened away  all  suitors  with  that  best  weapon  of  any, 
incredulity. 

In  three  months  from  the  night  of  Mrs.  Bicknell's 
benefit,  Pam  had  taken  Sir  Francis  Spencer  out  of 
jail  by  the  leasing  from  him  of  his  house  and  Sweet- 
Acre  garden.  Jess,  not  so  successful  as  a  player, 
was  more  than  happy  to  exchange  the  duties  of  a 
super  for  those  of  chief  waiting-woman  to  Mistress 
Congreve;  Godfrey  joyfully  rose  from  the  com- 
pounding of  essences  to  being  Pam's  porter,  content 
to  serve  day  and  night  in  silent  reverence. 

The  night  that  Pamela  first  came  to  her  home 
from  the  playhouse,  after  the  company  that  had 
gathered  to  light  the  house-warming  candles  and 
drink  her  health,  were  gone ;  after  the  place  was  still, 
and  even  Jess  away  to  her  closet,  she  took  from  its 
hiding  place  the  book  of  "  Mistress  Molly,"  and  read 
what  Harlowe  had  written  on  the  page  beneath  her 
name. 

It  was  not  the  only  time  she  had  read  it  since  the 
day  she  found  it  lying  on  the  bench:  Harlowe  and 
Pam  were  fast  friends  by  this:  he,  worshipping  the 
ground  she  trod;  she,  coy,  indifferent,  difficult  to 


104  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

please,  wayward,  full  of  moods ;  now  smiles,  now 
frowns ;  a  hint  of  tears,  and  these  presently  drowned 
out  by  the  merriest,  maddest  laughter  that  was  ever 
listened  to  by  a  poor  distraught,  pleading  swain. 

Would  she?  Perhaps  she  would.  On  second 
thought  it  was  quite  impossible  she  ever  could;  on 
a  third  reflection,  it  cut  her  to  the  quick  to  see  any 
gentleman  so  miserable  and  dishevelled;  but,  again, 
was  it  not  ever  best  to  put  one  of  the  opposite  sex 
through  a  course  of  discipline?  and  yet  once  more, 
"  Lud,  sir,  there's  my  finger-tips ;  you  think  they 
were  made  to  kiss?  Nay,  does  not  our  only  verse- 
maker,  Mr.  Beauclerc,  say  'tis  lips  were  fashioned 
for  that  office  solely  ?  Nay,  have  done !  " 

A  twitch,  a  twinkle,  a  flutter  of  taffetas  and  laces, 
and  off  danced  Pamela  out  of  the  long  window  to 
the  veranda  and  down  the  Sweet-Acre,  the  Duke 
after  her,  but  alas!  never  catching  up  with  that 
bewitching  red  mouth,  never  getting  any  nearer  to 
that  enchanting  dimple  at  its  corner  than  with  his 
envious  eyes. 

Beauclerc  watched  it  all,  how  hungrily  none  might 
guess;  yet  so  noble  was  his  soul  that  he  could  take 
bitter  joy  in  looking  at  the  happiness  of  another; 
he  believed  Pam  would  sooner  or  later  yield  to  Har- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  105 

lowe's  pleading,  for  he  was  a  gentleman  any  lady 
might  well  love  and  cherish. 

Tall  and  well-formed,  with  that  especial  elegance 
of  figure  and  carriage  which  most  appeals  to  the 
Fair;  dark,  so  that  his  cheeks  and  chin  showed  blue 
mixed  with  the  ruddy  blood  that  was  quick  to  mantle 
in  his  face;  with  a  mouth  made  both  to  sue  and  to 
command,  yet  subtly  gentle  as  a  lady's  in  its  wooing, 
but  stern  enough  when  needful;  teeth  as  white  as 
Pamela's  own ;  and  eyes  to  the  full  as  darkly  blue, 
yet  bold  and  insatiable  where  hers  were  sparkling, 
veiled,  grave,  luring,  or  sedate;  hair  as  dark  as 
Pam's  own,  too,  but  worn  in  the  fashion  of  the  time, 
powdered,  tied,  and  perfumed  with  Monsieur  Gim- 
bart's  best. 

"  By  Gad !  "  said  the  hunchback  to  himself,  survey- 
ing the  two  of  them  together.  "  He  is  worthy  of 
her ;  she  of  him !  She — aye,  she  is  worthy  an  arch- 
angel, were  such  gentry  seeking  spouses  hereabouts." 

So,  with  London  at  her  feet,  the  King  ready  to  do 
her  homage ;  Harlowe,  the  greatest  catch  of  the  day, 
her  chief  suitor ;  Surrey  Beauclerc  making  verses  and 
breaking  his  heart  about  her,  was  Pam  happy? 

She  sometimes  stood  staring  at  her  own  image  in 
the  Venetian  mirror  which  the  hunchback  had  given 


106          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

her  in  reparation  of  the  one  he  had  broke  the  day 
they  first  met,  and  the  full  lips  trembled  and  quiv- 
ered, the  dancing  eyes  grew  sombre,  the  sighs  came, 
andlthe  sobs. 

Pamela  was  remembering;  remembering  that  she 
was  not  for  any  man ;  that  the  shadow  of  a  possible, 
nay  probable,  crime  hung  over  her,  and  that  back  of 
that  again  there  lay  a  something  that  could  never 
be  forgotten. 

What  could  she  do  now? 

Nothing  but  push  it  all  behind  her;  shut  the  door 
tight  on  half  of  her  nature ;  laugh  and  dance  her  time 
away.  She  wondered  at  her  success,  but  it  added 
little  to  either  her  joyor  her  self-confidence. 

It  was  on  Pamela  that  Mr.  Beauclerc's  thoughts 
ran  as  he  was  carried  in  his  chair  down  Pall  Mall, 
the  rain  falling  in  torrents,  the  leathers  creaking  in 
a  frightful  din,  and  the  poet  shaken  and  bumped 
this  way  and  that  as  his  chairmen  forced  some  unfor- 
tunate pedestrian  against  the  wall,  or  ran  him 
splashing  into  the  kennel,  which  was  at  full  tide,  and 
spattering  everything  with  filth,  while  the  four  of 
them  burst  into  ruffianly  laughter. 

Beauclerc  was  presently  set  down  at  Lady  Ham- 
mond's, in  De  Beauvoir  Street,  for  a  dish  of  Bohea 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  107 

and  to  hear  the  news,  her  ladyship  being  now  ninety 
years  of  age,  but  as  apt  at  gossip,  novelty,  loo,  ombre, 
and  piquet,  as  if  she  were  her  own  great-grand- 
daughter. 

It  was  here  our  poet  learned  that  Lord  Charteris 
had  been  for  three  weeks  back  from  France,  and  so 
taken  with  Mistress  Congreve  as  to  pass  every  night 
of  his  life  staring  at  her  from  the  pit. 

Had  not  Mr.  Beauclerc  remarked  it? 

No,  Mr.  Beauclerc  had  not :  he  had  been  too  much 
engrossed  in  staring  at  the  goddess  himself  to  take 
note  of  other  gentlemen  in  a  like  predicament. 

Further,  Lady  Betty  Wyndham,  not  the  least 
tamed  by  a  year's  moralising,  was  back  in  town  by 
the  same  post  that  fetched  the  news  Charteris  had 
landed  in  England;  with  her  she  had  dragged  her 
uncle,  Sir  Thomas,  reluctant,  fuming,  and  irate,  as 
well  as  her  aunt  and  Kitty,  in  whose  wake  hovered, 
hopeful  yet  uncertain  of  his  fate,  the  doughty  Sir 
Toby. 

And  Charteris? 

He  was  no  more  ardent  than  a  twelvemonth  before ; 
he  had  not  yet  paid  his  duty  to  Lady  Betty,  but 
divided  his  time,  day  and  night,  between  the  play- 
house and  the  gaming-table.  'Twas  monstrous,  the 


108  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

fair  critics  thought,  for  any  gentleman  so  to  mal- 
treat and  flout  a  lady  of  spirit  and  fortune. 

As  Mr.  Beauclerc  was  taking  his  leave  he  encoun- 
tered Lady  Betty  and  her  aunt  coming  in  for  a  les- 
son at  whist,  since  Mr.  Edmund  Hoyle  was  engaged 
each  afternoon  in  teaching  the  ladies  of  the  first 
quality  the  true  values  of  hearts,  clubs,  spades,  and 
diamonds. 

"  La,  Mr.  Beauclerc !  "  cried  Lady  Trevor.  "  Well 
met,  sir ! " 

"  Sweet  ladies,"  the  hunchback  answered,  with  lips 
for  the  hand  of  each,  "  I  swear  but  this  is  fortunate 
for  me,  and  I  just  back  in  town !  " 

"  Lud,  sir!  "  says  Betty.  "  I've  not  put  eye  upon 
you  since  the  day  we  quitted  Coniston  Grange,  and 
were  spilled  out  of  our  coach  at  Tamworth — the  day 
Lord  Charteris  got  his  mysterious  wound  and  was 
off  to  Paris.  Ever  since  we  have  been  moping  in 
the  country.  He  is  once  more  in  town,  so  I've 
heard,"  she  added  eagerly,  all  her  heart  in  the  post- 
script of  her  speech,  as  is  often  the  habit  of  her  sex. 

"  True,  Lady  Betty,  so  I  believe,"  answered  Beau- 
clerc. "  For  I've  just  heard  the  same  from  Lady 
Hammond,  and  if  there's  aught  to  know,  she  knows 
it." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  109 

"  Then  you've  not  seen  him?  "  cried  the  lady  anx- 
iously. 

"  No,  but  only  heard,"  says  he,  bowing  and  chir- 
rupping  for  his  porters,  being  tender-hearted  and  un- 
willing to  behold  pain  in  so  handsome  a  face,  "  that 
my  Lord  Charteris  is  in  the  same  catalogue  of 
sighing  swains  that  sit  dozens  deep  in  the  pit  of 
Covent  Garden  each  night  that  Mistress  Congreve 
plays." 

Lady  Betty's  face  flushed  even  beneath  its  layer 
of  crimson ;  she  tottered,  grasping  her  aunt's  arm. 

"  Sir,  Mr.  Beauclerc,"  she  said,  stopping  the 
poet's  path  deliberately.  "  Pray  you,  what's  the 
way  to  see  this  creature  the  town's  run  mad  about?  " 
and  she  bit  her  thin  lips  till  they  almost  bled. 

"  The  stalls !  The  stalls ! "  answered  he  gaily. 
"  To-night  there's  a  monstrous  fine  programme." 

"  Lud,  Mr.  Beauclerc !  My  Uncle  Thomas  had 
rather  see  us  dead  than  take  us  to  the  theatre." 

"  Aye,"  assented  Lady  Trevor.  "  Or  set  foot  in 
such  a  vile  place  himself.  Sir  Thomas  is  consistent 
with  all  his  faults,  most  consistent." 

"  Is  there  no  other  way  to  get  a  sight  of  her?  " 
urged  Lady  Betty  anxiously.  "  Sweet  Mr.  Beau- 
clerc, pray  you,  think !  I  know  I  should  see  so  much 


110  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

that  was  admirable,  and  be  the  better  able  to  chatter 
with  the  rest." 

"  Mistress  Congreve  takes  the  air  every  day  in  her 
chair,"  he  suggested. 

"  Bah,  sir !  I'd  not  make  one  with  the  rabble,  and 
follow  at  her  lackeys'  heels." 

"  Madam,  you  could  not ! "  he  answered  ardently, 
with  a  bow  to  both.  "  Your  mien  among  the  throng 
would  soon  overtop  them  and  proclaim  your  sta- 
tion." 

"  But  I'd  know,  dear  Mr.  Beauclerc,"  wheedled 
Betty,  "  how  to  encounter  Mistress  Congreve  and 
have  speech  with  her.  None  so  sure  to  know  as  you. 
Where  think  you?  " 

"  The  theatre,  that's  her  hunting-ground.  Seek 
her  there.  The  greenroom's  open  for  all  persons 
of  consequence  the  whole  night  through." 

"I'll  do  it!  "cried  Betty. 

"  You're  mad !  "  Lady  Trevor  exclaimed. 

"  Nay,  aunt,"  retorted  the  younger,  sweeping  the 
poet  a  curtsey  down  to  the  ground,  and  pulling  her 
elder  into  the  drawing-room  after  her.  "  I  swear  I'll 
go  to  the  theatre  this  very  night,  and  you  with  me. 
Nay,  shake  not  your  head;  masked  and  veiled, 
what's  to  hinder?  I'll  make  the  hussy  tremble,  and 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  111 

teach  her  how  to  weave  her  spell  around  Pelham,  Earl 
of  Charteris ! " 

"  But,  Betty,  your  uncle ! "  cried  the  matron, 
aghast  at  this  plan,  which  she  knew  her  niece's  tem- 
per well  enough  to  be  sure  would  be  carried  into  exe- 
cution. 

"  My  uncle  be  hanged !  "  said  Betty  with  decision. 
"  When  he  was  young  he  followed  his  will,  and  spent 
his  nights  in  the  playhouse.  'Tis  for  that  cause  he's 
now  set  prim  against  them.  My  uncle  had  his  day 
— and  night,  madam,  too;  and  I  swear  so  will  I! 
To  save  scandal  you'll  go  with  me ;  and  when  I  stand 
face  to  face  with  her,  she'll  find  I'm  not  my  uncle's 
niece  for  naught.  Seek  not  to  coax  or  threaten; 
my  mind's  made  up.  Faugh!  You  once  bade  me 
have  a  proper  spirit;  surely  now's  the  time  to  show 
it,  with  both  Harlowe  and  Charteris,  not  to  speak 
any  other  gentleman's  name  in  town,  and  even  the 
abject  little  dwarf  Beauclerc,  twanging  the  praises 
of  this  player  in  my  ears !  I'll  see  for  myself  where 
lies  the  spell,  and,  by  Gad!  as  my  uncle  says,  I'll 
essay  to  break  it ! " 


CHAPTER  XI 

SIE   THOMAS   VISITS    THE   BOTTOMLESS    PIT 

MEG,  dressed  as  an  Indian  squaw,  sat  at 
the  harpsichord,  a  half-dozen  players 
in  Quaker  garb  were  gathered  to  right 
of  the  instrument,  conning  their  lines  and  leaning 
against  bits  of  scenes  representing  a  camp. 

What  there  was  not  in  the  room  would  be  easier 
named  than  what  was;  tiger  skins,  drums,  rapiers, 
gloves,  flowers,  wigs,  fans,  shawls,  and  ribbons  were 
strewn  everywhere.  Before  a  rude  dressing  table 
which  almost  edged  upon  the  stage  itself,  sat  Heath- 
cote  quietly  making  up  his  face  for  a  Mohawk  chief, 
but  ever  and  anon  his  eye  ran  over  from  the  looking- 
glass  to  the  small  door  at  the  upper  corner  on  which 
was  tacked  the  name  "  Mistress  Pamela  Congreve." 
Beside  it  on  the  wall  was  hung  the  flaunting  play  bill 
of  the  night,  reading  thus : 

"  Clementina,  the  graceful  and  inimitable,  in  a  pas 
seul  with  the  music  originally  composed  by  Mr. 
Knight.  First  performance  on  any  stage  of  the 

113 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  113 

pathetic  drama  in  one  act,  Minnehaha,  with  Mistress 
Meg  Kent  as  an  Indian  Maiden.  To  be  succeeded  by 
the  exquisitely  comical  conceit,  The  Quaker's  Daugh- 
ter, Mistress  Pamela  Congreve  as  Pastorella.  The 
whole  to  be  concluded  by  the  new  tragi-comedy  in 
two  acts  and  the  epilogue  of  Marlborough's  Man. 
Mistress  Congreve  in  her  most  wonderful  character 
of  Captain  Mirabeau." 

"  Stop  that  noise  in  here,"  cried  Heathcote,  firing 
a  rabbit's  foot  at  Meg.  "  There's  enough  out  there 
in  the  house  without  your  adding  to  it." 

And  indeed  there  was  a  royal  hubbub  of  stamping, 
clapping,  calling,  and  shouting  as  well  as  the  tooting 
and  scraping  of  the  orchestra.  The  breeze  from  the 
up-going  curtain  brought  in  such  a  whiff  of  essences 
and  perfumes  as  seemed  wafted  from  an  Eastern 
garden. 

The  call  boy  popped  in  his  head.  "  Clementina, 
you're  called !  "  said  he,  disappearing  with  the  dancer, 
who  rubbed  her  soles  in  the  chalk-box  on  the  way  to 
her  dance. 

"  The  boy  lies,"  said  Meg  calmly,  "  for  no  one's 
ever  called  now  any  more  save  Pamela.  Has  she 
come  yet  ? "  she  added,  regarding  her  tawny  skin 
dubiously. 


114  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Come?  She's  in  her  room,"  answered  Heath- 
cote. 

"  Aye,  spying  out  window  to  see  if  his  Grace's 
coroneted  chair  blocks  the  way ! " 

"  Hold  your  tongue !  "  was  all  the  comfort  Heath- 
cote  had  for  her. 

"  Zooks,"  said  she,  "  don't  look  so  glum,  there's 
others  as  fair  as  Pam." 

"  There's  not,  I  swear ! S) 

"  Well,  well,  at  least,  I  swear  there's  many  another 
gentleman  more  of  a  gallant  than  you ! " 

The  manager  bowed  his  head  with  a  sardonic  grin, 
as  he  rubbed  the  rouge  around  his  eyes. 

"  There's  Mr.  Beauclerc  and  Lord  Charteris 
now  returned  from  the  French  Court  in  the  train 
of  the  Princess  Royal  from  Versailles,"  continued 
Mistress  Meg,  still  surveying  her  own  darkened 
countenance  in  her  pocket  mirror  with  some  rueful- 
ness. 

"  Charteris !  Egad ! "  muttered  Heathcote.  "  Ever 
since  he's  shown  in  town,  he's  every  night  in  the  pit, 
his  eyes  riveted  on  Pamela's  face." 

"  Him  too  ?  "  laughed  Meg.  "  Heaven  grant  she 
leave  me  my  sweet  Mr.  Beauclerc !  La !  do  all  the 
Colony  ladies  dress  of  this  fashion,  I  wonder  now?  " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  115 

pulling  her  girdle  of  feathers  straight  and  adjusting 
her  moccasins. 

"  Rat  me  if  I  know !  "  exclaimed  Heathcote.  "  Ask 
Mr.  Beauclerc,  for  here  he  is ! " 

And  in  came  the  hunchback,  presenting  his  snuff- 
box to  the  fair  Minnehaha,  as  he  bowed  low  before 
her  extended  hand. 

"  Mr.  Beauclerc,  sir,  how  do  I  look  ?  "  said  Meg 
anxiously. 

"  Aye,  sir,"  returns  he,  nodding  familiarly  to 
Heathcote,  with  a  glance  about  at  all  the  persons  in 
the  room.  "  That's  the  eternal  cry !  I  dare  be 
sworn  '  how  do  I  look  ?  '  is  what  Eve  said  to  Adam 
when  the  first  fig-leaf  came  home  from  the  mantua- 
maker's.  *  Look,'  fair  lady  ?  Beautiful,  beautiful ! 
What  other  way  does  a  woman  ever  look  in  the  eyes 
of  a  man  who  understands  his  duties ! " 

"  Lud,  sir !     What  a  wit  you  have !  " 

"What's  the  news,  chuck?  What's  the  news?" 
he  went  on,  fingering  the  powders  and  unguents, 
dropping  into  a  seat,  and  watching  Heathcote  and 
the  rest  trooping  off  to  the  wings  to  await  their  cues. 
"  Since  I've  been  down  in  the  country  mending  my 
health  this  past  month,  I've  lost  track  of  every 
merry  novelty;  prithee  impart!" 


116  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  The  news,"  returned  Meg,  "  is — Pamela.  All  the 
earls  in  the  kingdom  at  her  feet ;  all  the  dukes  at  her 
feet ;  all  the  marquises  at  her  finger  tips ;  the  town's 
drunk  with  her,  and  the  King  mad  with  admiration 
of  her,  but  you've  sure  heard  this  tale  before  seek- 
ing me  out  here?  " 

"  Nay,  not  I.  Your  greenroom's  the  first  place 
in  the  world  for  gossip;  even  Lady  Hamilton  hath 
not  so  new  a  dish.  What's  this  tale  of  the  King,  eh?  " 

"  Merely  this,"  the  player  returned.  "  His  most 
gracious  Majesty  this  day  week  sends  to  Mistress 
Pamela  Congreve  a  gilded  vase  of  plate,  so  high, 
stuck  full  of  diamonds,  pearls,  and  rubies — and  what 
does  Pam  do  but  send  her  porter,  Godfrey  Gimbart, 
straight  to  the  palace  with  it,  and  a  letter  to  the 
Queen,  saying  the  vase  had  doubtless  reached  her  by 
a  mistake,  and  was  meant  for  her  Majesty ! " 

Beauclerc  laughed  twice ;  first  over  the  neatness  of 
the  message,  and  again  in  rejoicing  that  Pam  had 
not  accepted  the  royal  gift. 

"  For  my  part,  sir,"  Meg  went  on,  "  I  don't  blame 
any  gentleman  for  preferring  her  to  his  wife.  You 
see,  wives  have  a  way,  Mr.  Beauclerc,  of  being  on 
such  sacrilegiously  intimate  terms  with  their  lords 
that  one  who  begins  by  being  the  slave  of  her  he 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  117 

pursues,  ends  by  being  tyrant  of  her  that  never  allows 
herself  to  be  run  after." 

"  Brava,  Meg !  "  cried  the  poet.  "  Spoke  like  Mr. 
Bickerstaff  himself !  The  Indian  frock's  given  you  a 
prettier  wit  than  I  supposed." 

"  Egad,  sir,  I'm  glad  it's  given  me  something. 
Oh,  there's  more  news  too.  Lady  Betty  Wyndham's 
up  in  town,  turned  into  grass,  green  as  a  June 
meadow,  dying  for  Charteris  and  jealousy.  Heath- 
cote's  killin'  himself  by  inches  for  Pam's  sake,  and 
plaguin'  the  life  out  of  her  on  his  way  to  the  grave. 
Harlowe — but  you  know  of  that." 

"  Aye,  I  know,"  he  answered,  crossing  at  the  back 
of  the  stage. 

And  then  burst  forth  such  a  clatter  of  a  thousand 
tongues  all  shouting  one  name,  as  made  Meg  clap  her 
fingers  to  her  ears  and  run  off  to  her  call. 

"Pam!  Pam!  Pamela!  Pam!  Pam!  Pamela!" 
echoed  and  re-echoed  from  the  roof  to  the  pit  of  the 
playhouse;  'prentice  boys  and  peers  alike  calling  for 
their  favourite,  as  was  the  nightly  custom  of  the 
time  when  the  Congreve  was  the  mode. 

Presently  Godfrey  Gimbart  ran  in,  a  bunch  of 
posies  as  big  as  his  head  in  one  hand  and  a  casket 
in  the  other;  he  tapped  at  his  mistress'  door.  It 


118  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

opened  on  the  crack  disclosing  Pamela  in  her  petti- 
coat, her  mouth  full  of  pins,  Jess  doing  up  her  hair 
and  setting  on  her  wig  for  her  first  part. 

"  Well,  Godfrey,"  said  she,  "  what  now,  lad?  " 

"  From  his  Grace  of  Harlowe,  mistress,"  he  an- 
swered presenting  both  flowers  and  box. 

Pamela  broke  a  rose  from  the  bunch  and  stuck  it 
in  her  bosom. 

"  Jess,  girl,"  she  commanded  carelessly,  "  take 
these  other  things  and  bestow  'em  safely,  I've  not 
time  now  to  look  at  'em.  Off,  Godfrey,  and  tell 
your  father  I  say  for  him  to  watch  me  close  at  my 
French  lingo  to-night,  so  that  if  I  trip,  after  all  the 
lessons  he's  given  me,  he  may  correct  me  to-morrow." 

Off  went  Godfrey,  in  went  Pamela  and  Jess.  As 
the  door  of  the  dressing  room  closed,  Mr.  Beauclerc 
returned  from  the  wings  to  hear  a  loud  knocking  that 
betokened  the  arrival  of  a  new  visitor,  of  importance 
in  his  own  eyes  at  least. 

"  Whom  have  we  here?  "  said  he,  as  the  noise  in- 
creased, and  "  'Pon  honour,  sir ! "  was  added,  as  Sir 
Thomas  Trevor  cautiously  advanced  into  the  green- 
room of  Covent  Garden  Theatre. 

"Sir  Thomas!"  cried  the  hunchback.  "The 
immaculate !  in  that  pest  hole,  the  playhouse !  Ducks 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  119 

and  drakes,  sir,  what  brings  you  to  this  den  of 
iniquity  ?  "  Beauclerc  laughed  heartily,  for  he  was 
old  enough  to  remember  Sir  Thomas'  early  predilec- 
tions, and  to  know  that  his  Puritanic  symptoms  had 
only  been  developed  by  that  surest  cause,  a  marriage 
with  a  lady  of  spirit. 

"  Well  met,  Mr.  Beauclerc,"  replied  the  baronet, 
glancing  around  and  halting  in  the  centre  of  the 
room.  "  I'll  tell  you  what  I'm  here  for.  My  daugh- 
ter Kitty's  to  marry  Lord  Rawdon  of  Rawdon ;  she'll 
none  of  him,  but  steals  her  time  philandering  with  a 
milksop  called  Toby  Spencer ! " 

"  Well,  well,  Sir  Thomas.  What's  all  this  to  do 
with  the  greenroom  of  Covent  Garden  ? "  queried 
Beauclerc,  though  he  knew  well  enough  since  his 
visit  at  Lady  Hammond's  what'  the  cause  of  the 
tempest  was. 

"  S'death,  sir,"  cried  the  baronet.  "  Rawdon's 
no  more  for  the  match  than  Kitty  nowadays,  but 
kept  from  a  proper  suit  of  marriage  by  this  play- 
actress  baggage  Pamela  Congreve !  " 

The  hunchback  nodded  as  he  tendered  his  jewelled 
snuffbox,  and  then  began  slowly  pacing  up  and 
down,  with  a  calm  eye  on  Sir  Thomas'  fidgets. 

"  Aye,  sir,"  said  he,  "  by  a  close  reckoning  the 


120  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

parsons  should  be  out  many  a  fat  fee  of  late  by 
means  of  her  you  name ;  gentlemen  who  once  behold 
her  do  shun  other  ladies  and  the  altar  of  Hymen,  'tis 
said.  You  yourself  mayhap,  could  you  but  meet 
her,  might  fall  a  victim  to  such  a  slice  of  sunshine ! " 

"  Me,  sir,  me ! "  shouted  the  older  man,  pounding 
the  drum  near  him  with  his  cane.  "  I'm  here  to  meet 
her ;  come  to  the  bottomless  pit  itself,  sir,  to  confront 
the  hussy  and  bid  her  cease  working  her  evil  charms 
on  the  young  gentleman  I've  selected  for  my  daugh- 
ter's husband.  Things  have  come  to  a  pretty  pass, 
Mr.  Beauclerc,  if  a  man  can't  marry  his  daughter  to 
whom  he  pleases !  "  Sir  Thomas  halted  out  of  breath. 

"  Most  unreasonable,  truly,  for  any  young  lady 
to  wish  to  choose  her  own  husband,"  returned  the 
poet.  "  But,  sir,"  he  added,  smiling  to  himself,  "  how 
do  you  purpose  the  compassing  of  your  will  ?  " 

"  How,  sir ! "  retorted  the  baronet,  thumping  up 
to  the  door  of  Pamela's  dressing  room  and  pointing 
to  her  name.  "  By  stopping  here  till  she  emerges — 
although  I've  never  yet  set  eyes  upon  her,  I'll  know 
her  at  sight — and  then  to  rate  her,  subdue  her,  and 
teach  her  a  lesson,  sir !  " 

"  Or  learn  one,"  muttered  Beauclerc  under  his 
breath,  still  smiling  at  his  own  thoughts. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  121 

"  Heh,  sir?  "  resumed  Sir  Thomas,  having  paused 
long  enough  to  regain  his  breath.  "  Nor  is  this  all. 
Here's  my  niece  Betty  dying  of  love — bah!  for  my 
Lord  Charteris,  and  him  hanging  fire  before  a  wed- 
ding as  though  'twere  a  rent-day ! " 

"  Zounds,  sir !  "  laughs  Beauclerc.  "  A  wedding 
is  the  worser  evil;  it  entails  consequences,  and  your 
rent-day  you  can  run  away  from !  " 

"  Would  to  Heaven  you  could ! "  responds  Sir 
Thomas  fervently,  recalling  his  own  arrears  and  his 
gaming  debts  to  the  Duke  of  Harlowe.  "  You  re- 
call that  night,  more  than  twelve  months  ago  now, 
when,  after  quitting  you  at  Coniston  Grange,  we 
were  spilled  at  Tamworth — Charteris  stabbed  by 
some  unknown  ruffian  at  the  Greene  Shippe,  off  to  the 
continent  like  a  shot ;  and  no  more  of  him  till  a  fort- 
night or  so  since,  and  now  he's  haunting  this  dam- 
nable playhouse  too,  like  one  bewitched  by  this 
painted  Jezebel  of  a  stroller." 

"  You're  out  there,  Sir  Thomas  Trevor ! "  cried 
the  hunchback,  his  right  hand  instinctively  seeking 
his  hilt.  "  Pamela  Congreve  smiles  on  no  man." 

"  Tush,  Mr.  Versemaker.  Harlowe's  no  eyes  for 
Betty  either  since  the  Congreve  came  to  town,  and 
ray  mind  set  on  that  match." 


122  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  An  honest  gentleman,  sir,  who  loves  her." 

"  Love !  Damnation,  sir !  Cocksbones,  sir !  Now, 
what's  love,  that  one's  forever  hearing  of  it,  yet 
never  seeing  it?  Will  o'  the  wisp,  sir,  fit  food  for 
poets  and  silly  maids.  Love!  All  on  account  of  it, 
here  am  I  in  this  polluted  place !  "  Sir  Thomas  now 
stopped  short  in  both  his  thumping  and  his  speech 
to  arrange  his  twisted  side-curls  at  the  mirror.  "  I 
begin  to  feel  wicked  myself !  " 

"  Come,  come,  sir ;  let's  to  White's !  A  cup  of 
chocolate  will  warm  you  to  your  encounter  and  mend 
your  erring  wits.  Come !  "  and  Beauclerc  linked  his 
arm  in  the  old  gentleman's,  hoping  to  get  him  out  of 
the  theatre  once  for  all. 

"  Well,  well,  Mr.  Beauclerc.  The  cup  may  give 
me  strength  to  meet  the  minx  anon  and  tell  her  to  her 
face  " — Sir  Thomas  rapped  off  each  word  with  his 
stick — "just  what  I  think  of  her!" 

"  If  I  mistake  not,"  returned  the  hunchback, 
"  you'll  think  her  enchanting — nor  tarry  in  the  tell- 
ing of  it,  if  ever  you  get  the  chance !  " 

But  these  words  were  spoken  so  low  that  Sir 
Thomas  did  not  hear  them,  and,  with  a  glance  at  hia 
watch,  he  followed  Beauclerc's  lead  to  White's. 


CHAPTER  XII 

SIR  THOMAS'  FAMILY  FOLLOWS  HIS  LEAD 

MISTRESS  KITTY  was  not  her  father's 
daughter  for  naught ;  nor  was  she  up 
in  town  for  the  first  time  in  her  life 
to  no  purpose.  Her  pretty  ear  applied  to  the  key- 
hole of  her  mother's  boudoir,  she  had  heard  her 
cousin  Betty's  plan  to  visit  the  theatre  that  very 
night;  how  it  was  to  be  done;  where  the  proper  en- 
trance was,  to  get  "  behind  the  scenes  " ;  how  masks 
and  veils  were  to  be  worn,  and  all  the  paraphernalia 
of  the  plot.  At  dinner,  therefore,  she  listened  with 
commendable  patience  to  her  father's  planning  of 
her  marriage  with  Lord  Rawdon;  listened  to  her 
mother  and  Betty  speaking  carelessly  of  how,  "  much 
wasted  with  the  rout  at  Holland  House  the  evening 
before,  they'd  seek  their  couches  early  to-night " ; 
listened  when  Sir  Thomas  cursed  the  players  and  the 
playhouse,  and  while  the  ladies  bore  him  out  with 
protestations  as  truthful  as  his  own. 

123 


124  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  If  ever  I  set  foot  in  such  a  foul  infected  pre- 
cinct, may  I  never  be  forgiven!  'Tis  a  place  I'd 
rather  die  than  find  myself  within ! "  cried  Lady 
Trevor,  but  such  execrations  failed  to  outwit  Kitty, 
who  sat  demurely,  her  eyes  bent  upon  her  knitting, 
and  her  head  bobbing  in  acquiescent  time  with  all 
these  handsome  lies. 

Now  when  Sir  Thomas,  believing  his  lady  and  his 
niece  safely  stowed  beneath  their  counterpanes  and 
quilts,  softly  crept  from  his  room  and  ordered  his 
chair  brought  round  to  the  door ;  when  he  descended, 
perfumed  like  a  pouncet-box,  hat  cocked,  his  tasselled 
cane  hanging  at  his  side,  and  whispered  to  the  men, 
shivering  as  he  glanced  over  his  shoulder, — it  was 
Kitty,  hidden  in  the  niche  behind  the  tapestry  on  the 
stairway,  who  giggled  softly  as  she  heard  his  orders : 

"  To  Covent  Garden,  and  run  like  the  devil,  or  I'll 
ship  ye  all  in  the  morning !  " 

She  heard,  too,  when  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later, 
her  mother  and  Betty,  thinking  her  asleep,  cloaked 
and  hooded,  tiptoed  down  the  back  staircase,  through 
the  pantry  and  the  scullery.  She  trod  lightly  in 
their  very  footprints,  out  of  the  door  that  gave  upon 
the  mews,  saw  them  enter  a  waiting  coach,  and  heard 
Betty  say  to  the  footman: 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  125 

*;  To  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  the  players'  en- 
trance, and  hover  there  until  I  jerk  the  string  for 
you  to  halt." 

Then  she  retraced  her  steps,  pulling  after  her  the 
Buttons,  dragging  the  affrighted  lad  into  the  library 
by  the  nape  of  his  neck  and  administering  to  him 
such  a  shaking  as  turned  him  pale  with  fright. 

Kitty  wrote  two  notes,  and  showing  the  boy  a  sov- 
ereign, said  boldly,  "  Take  this  to  Lord  Rawdon,  at 
Will's  Coffee  House,  and  this  to  Sir  Toby  Spencer  at 
his  lodging  around  the  corner.  If  you  are  back  in 
ten  minutes  the  sovereign  is  yours ;  if  not,  I'll  see  you 
discharged  in  the  morning." 

The  lad  earned  his  golden  piece ;  for  even  before  he 
returned  Sir  Toby  was  at  the  feet  of  his  Fair,  the 
coach  she  had  bid  him  fetch  waited  in  the  mews ;  and 
Mistress  Kitty,  two  of  her  cousin's  masks  swinging 
on  her  arm,  her  cloak  about  her,  her  head  swathed  in 
her  mother's  macklin  shawl,  presently  got  within  the 
coach,  beckoning  Toby  after  her.  Masterfully  she 
cried  to  the  coachman,  while  Sir  Toby  trembled,  "  To 
the  Covent  Garden  Theatre,  the  players'  entrance, 
and  drive  for  your  life !  " 

Just  as  Sir  Thomas  Trevor  and  Mr.  Beauclerc  en- 
tered White's  for  their  chocolate,  Lord  Rawdon,  at 


126  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Will's,  was  taking  Kitty's  note  from  the  hands  of 
her  emissary.     It  read  thus : 

"  To  Lord  Rawdon  of  Rawdon :  Honoured  and  dear 
sir,  and  friend  whom  I  esteem  but  do  not  love.  Be 
not  affrighted  at  this  page,  'tis  but  to  acquaint  you 
that  my  worshipful  father  is  now  en  route  to  the 
theatre,  bound  to  an  encounter  with  Mistress  Con- 
greve,  to  give  her  a  piece  of  a  very  valuable  com- 
modity— to  wit — his  mind!  He  is  persuaded  that 
you  fight  shy  of  wedding  the  writer  hereof,  because 
you  are  over  head  and  ears  in  love  with  the  said  Mis- 
tress Congreve.  I  write  you  this,  my  lord,  that  you 
may  prepare  Mistress  Congreve  (whom  I  love,  for 
that  she  hath  ensnared  you  out  of  my  path),  and  also 
his  Grace,  whom  I  revere  for  that  he  once  said  Sir 
Toby  was  brave  (which  is  a  lie,  but  I  love  lies  when 
they  are  of  a  colour  to  please  me).  Pray  you  advise 
with  the  aforenamed  to  contrive  themselves  to  the 
scrimmage,  and  so  help  me  and  my  Toby  to  our  wed- 
ding-day. Your  dutiful  but  not  loving, 

"KITTY  TREVOR." 

Armed  with  this  surprising  missive,  young  Lord 
Rawdon  speedily  sought  Harlowe  in  the  pit  of  the 
theatre,  and  presently  the  latter  came  out  and  around 
to  the  greenroom. 

He  met  Pamela  there. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  127 

"  Not  a  second  to  waste,  your  Grace,"  cried  she. 
"  Both  my  parts  are  new  ones  to-night." 

"  Waste,"  answers  he,  prisoning  of  her  hands. 
"  Listen,  Rawdon's  just  in  receipt  of  a  note  from 
Mistress  Kitty,  Sir  Thomas  Trevor's  daughter,  which 
he  brought  to  me,  since  it  says  Sir  Thomas,  ripe  for 
battle,  is  coming  here  to-night  to  rate  you  that  all 
men  sue  at  no  other  ladies'  slippers  save  yours ! " 

Pamela  laughed,  not  with  conscious  coquetry,  but 
mirthful  and  incredulous. 

"  'Tis  a  fact — he  comes  to  administer  to  you  a 
piece  of  his  mind,  and  Kitty  sends  the  warning  to 
you  with  her  love." 

"  'Tis  a  sweet  lady,  and  I  honour  and  thank  her." 

"  You  must  not  have  the  encounter !  I'll  not  allow 
his  damned  tongue  wag  you  into  tears,"  exclaimed 
the  young  man  hotly. 

"  Lud ! "  said  Pamela,  "  your  Grace  takes  the 
matter  too  seriously.  An  old  gentleman's  a  right 
to  give  away  his  opinions  if  he  so  desire !  " 

"  'Twill  be  rudely  done.     I'll  not  have  it." 

"  Trust  me,"  says  Pam. 

"  Trust  thee,"  whispers  Harlowe.  "  Pamela, 
thou  knowest  that  which  lies  ever  next  my  heart  and 
lips !  "  His  voice  was  low  and  serious. 


128  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Aye,"  answered  she,  mischief  in  her  eyes,  "  thy 
shirt  and  a  mug  of  wine !  " 

"  Mistress,  mock  me  not.     I  worship  you." 

"  Nay !  "  with  little  curious  airs  half-put-him-off , 
half-call-him-on.  "  There's  nobler  ladies.  Bethink 
you,  what's  a  player  anyway?  A  laughing  toy,  a 
dancing- jinny,  that  he  who  pays  his  shilling  can  take 
his  fill  of  gazing  at." 

"  Pamela,"  said  Harlowe,  stopping  short  in  his 
pursuit  of  her  across  the  room.  "  Will  you  marry 
me  to-night?  " 

And,  "  Oh,  no ! "  she  answered  in  affright  at  the 
strange  seriousness  of  his  tone,  the  strange  new  inti- 
macy of  his  ardent  eyes.  Her  voice  was  as  serious 
as  his  own,  for  in  it  lay  the  secrets  of  her  strange 
and  unknown  past. 

For  a  second,  as  their  glances  met,  hers  raised  to 
his,  both  mingling  in  a  new  delight,  perchance  the 
dearer  that  it  was  strangled  at  its  birth,  there  was  a 
pause,  a  hush  broken  only  by  the  hubbub  of  the 
stage. 

Then  Pam  spoke  first,  laughing  again. 

"  You  know  I  play  the  Quaker  maid  to-night.  As 
Pastorella  I'll  meet  Sir  Thomas,  rout,  flout,  pout  Sir 
Thomas  into — into  inviting  me  to  his  home  for  the 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  129 

Christmas  holidays!  What  say  you?  What  a  jest 
'twould  be?  I  wager  your  Grace  a  kiss  upon  this 
hand !  you'll  take  me  up  ?  " 

"  Aye ! "  cried  he,  a  curious  smile  parting  his 
lips.  "  Will  I  not?  and  play  I've  lost  and  haste  now 
to  pay  my  debt,"  attempting  to  suit  action  to  his 
word. 

"  No,  no,  I'd  not  have  it  so,"  said  she. 

"  Is  not  your  humble  suitor  worthy  of  a  hope 
thrown  out  as  a  crumb  to  a  dog?  " 

"  Harlowe !  "  Pamela  broke  away  from  him  run- 
ning. "  I'm  no  mate  for  thee."  She  paused  at  her 
door,  an  impulse  to  throw  herself  into  his  arms  so 
strong  upon  her  that  it  cost  her  a  bitter  struggle  to 
deny  it.  Then  she  added  proudly,  almost  defiantly, 
"  What's  my  past?  " 

"  I  ask  for  thy  future,"  he  answered  gently. 

"  Nay,"  said  she,  the  thunders  of  applause  from 
the  audience,  impatient  for  her  entrance,  echoing  to 
their  ears.  "  Yonder's  all  my  future.  Forget  me, 
Harlowe,  save  when  'tis  to  be  merry  and  an  encounter 
like  this  I  swear  to  have  with  Sir  Thomas  Trevor !  " 

And  off  she  whisked  into  her  room,  the  door  slam- 
ming loudly  under  Jess's  robust  hand. 

Harlowe  stood  still.     Then  he  turned  to  behold  a 


130  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

slight  cloaked  figure  advancing  cautiously  into  the 
room  from  the  alleyway  without. 

"  Mistress  Kitty !  "  he  cried. 

"  Aye,"  answers  the  newcomer,  darting  back  a  step 
and  dragging  Sir  Toby  in  by  the  tail  of  his  cloak, 
shivering  behind  his  hat  and  plumes. 

"  Madam !  And  your  father  to  be  here,  as  you 
say  in  your  note  to  Rawdon,  at  any  moment! 
What's  the  excuse  for  such  a  piece  of  risk,  I  beg?  " 

Sir  Toby  ventured  to  advance  a  step,  nodding  vig- 
orously in  assent. 

"  Tut,  tut,  your  Graoe !  Give  me  a  better  welcome 
than,  to  scold  and  frown.  I  risk  coming  because  I 
am  sworn  not  to  obey  my  parents.  Because,  not 
only  my  father  should  be  here  anon " — Sir  Toby 
shivered  anew  and  took  a  peep  over  his  shoulder — 
"  but  my  mother  and  my  Cousin  Betty  are  both  in 
their  chair  on  the  road  hither,  the  latter  having  the 
intention  to  bestow  on  Mistress  Congreve  a  portion 
of  that  same  dish  my  dad  has  a-cooking — to  wit,  her 
mind!  And  know  you  why?  Because  you're  tardy 
at  your  wooing !  These  interviews  are  to  break  for- 
ever the  chains  that  bind  your  Grace  and  Lord  Raw- 
don to  Mistress  Congreve.  Nay,  thank  me  not;  'tis 
on  Toby's  account  that  I  am  come ! " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  131 

"  Nay,  mistress,  but  I  do  thank  you,  and  I  pledge 
you  Mistress  Congreve  shall  be  warned  in  time." 
Kissing  Kitty's  hand,  Harlowe  made  off  to  scribble 
a  line  to  Pamela  informing  her  of  the  novel  visitors 
she  must  now  expect,  at  the  same  time  a  very  reason- 
able joy  tincturing  his  reflections  at  the  beautiful 
possibilities  of  the  tourney  should  Lady  Trevor  and 
her  husband  come  face  to  face  in  the  greenroom  of 
the  theatre! 

"  Kitty,  let's  go  home,"  said  Sir  Toby,  edging  to- 
ward the  alley,  when  the  Duke's  back  was  turned. 

"  Home? "  cried  Kitty,  "  and  me  just  arrived 
in  a  theatre  for  the  first  time  in  my  life!  No,  sir, 
not  until  I've  seen  the  play  out  behind  the  scenes,  if 
my  father  forbids  me  the  stalls !  " 

At  this  particular  juncture  the  voice  of  Kitty's 
father  made  itself  heard  in  the  alley,  at  which  Sir 
Toby,  shaking  like  an  aspen,  rushed  madly  from  side 
to  side,  with  lamentable  outcries: 

"  Your  father !  Kitty,  your  father !  St.  George 
and  the  Dragon !  What  '11  we  do  ?  "  and  Master 
Valiant  fled  to  cover  behind  his  charmer's  spreading 
hoop. 

"  Do  this !  "  retorted  Kitty,  hauling  her  suitor  up 
the  room  by  the  ribbon  of  his  queue,  and  bestowing 


132          PAMEL'A    CONGREV'E 

him  and  herself  in  the  shadow  of  a  pile  of  scenes 
representing  the  ruins  of  Troy. 

"  Dear  Toby,  now  are  you  as  safe  as  a  mouse  in  a 
cheese ! " 

"  Would  it  were  rather  a  mouse  than  I !  "  cried  he. 

"  Tush !  "  she  said,  peeping  out  as  her  father  came 
in  thumping  with  his  cane,  yet  not  so  absorbed  in  his 
errand  that  he  forgot  to  turn  an  eye  on  pretty  Jess. 

"  Saw  you  that,  Toby?  Daddy  never  looked  at 
me  that  way  in  his  life!  What  a  thing  it  is  in  the 
matter  of  a  young  lady's  education  to  be  able  to  ob- 
serve her  father  from  behind  the  scenes !  " 

Whereat  Sir  Toby  giggled,  Kitty  pinched  his  arm, 
and,  had  it  not  been  for  an  opportune  burst  of 
melody  from  the  orchestra,  this  pair  of  mice  would 
have  then  and  there  been  trapped. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

"  PASTOEELLA  " 

WITH  some  natures  it  is  but  a  short  cry 
from  tragedy  to  comedy,  from  tears 
to  laughter,  the  "  De  Profundis  "  of 
the  soul  to  the  lilt  of  a  tripping  tongue.     There  are 
women  who  can  cover  up  the  pity  of  a  wound  to  the 
death,  with  as  jocund  a  mirth  as  ever  threw  a  whirl 
of  sand  in  the  onlookers'  eyes. 

When  Pamela  rushed  away  from  her  noble  suitor 
into  her  tiring-room,  there  to  make  ready  for  her 
appearance  as  the  Quaker  maid,  though  she  laughed 
and  jested  with  Jess  at  her  mirrors  and  rouge  pots, 
yet  her  hand  shook,  and  in  and  out  of  the  rosary  of 
her  thoughts  ran  the  miserable  endless  thread  of 
wonder  as  to  Pelham  and  his  life  or  death.  As  for 
that  other  thing,  the  mystery  that  lay  even  further 
back  in  her  young  life,  it  too  obtruded  itself  more 
than  ever  upon  her  memory,  as  the  temptation  to 
yield  her  heart  to  Harlowe  grew  with  each  rise  of  sun. 

133 


134  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  "  away  with  you ! "  meaning  all 
these  pieces  of  the  past,  but  Jess  took  the  words  to 
herself  and  put  her  hand  on  the  latch,  saying  merely 
as  she  went: 

"  Madam,  will  you  have  the  posies  his  Grace  sent 
you  ?  " 

"  No,"  returned  Pamela,  looking  at  the  nosegay 
on  the  stand.  "  Let  be.  I'll  none  of  'em.  Get  you 
gone,  Jess ;  take  a  peep  at  the  house.  Quaker  maids 
must  not  be  decked  with  ducal  roses.  Besides,  I've 
a  wager  to  win,  girl ;  a  wager  to  win,  and  I  must  be 
about  it  quick,  lest  I've  not  time  to  reach  my  goal. 
Go  fetch  me  word  if  an  old  gentleman's  yet  come 
into  the  greenroom." 

"  Lawk !  he's  been  there  a-cooling  his  heels  this 
quarter-hour." 

"  Alone  ?  "  asked  Pam,  tiptoeing  to  her  door. 

"  Aye,  and  waiting  on  your  entrance,  for  aught  I 
knows." 

"  Go  out  and  see." 

Pamela  herself  opened  the  door  and  Jess  popped 
out;  Pam's  ear  was  to  the  crack,  all  the  sprites  of 
mischief  twinkling  at  one  another  in  her  eyes. 

Sir  Thomas,  his  cane  uplifted,  like  a  veteran  war- 
steed  reawakened  by  a  martial  air,  for  he  kept  toler- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  135 

able  time  to  the  orchestra  with  the  beat  of  his  stick, 
almost  fell  foul  of  Jess  as  she  came  in.  He  lost  no 
time  when  he  spied  her.  "  I'd  see  your  mistress  at 
once,  if  Mistress  Congreve  be  she,  d'ye  hear?  " 

"  I  ain't  deaf,"  remarked  Jess  demurely.  "  If 
you  want  to  see  her,  she'll  soon  be  on  the  stage.  Go 
round  and  look  at  her." 

"  Baggage !  "  cries  Sir  Thomas — "  me !  me  within 
the  sinful  walls  of  a  theatre  ?  Never !  " 

"  Where  are  you  now  ?  "  flouted  Jess,  eyeing  the 
testy  baronet  and  throwing  a  powder  puff  full  in  his 
face. 

At  which,  such  are  the  contradictory  possibilities 
of  his  sex,  he  sputtered,  laughed  in  glee,  made  a  lunge 
at  Jess,  kissed  her  cheek  and  cried  (while  Kitty  and 
Pamela  each  looked  on).  "  Split  me,  lass!  but  thy 
cheek's  of  velvet !  " 

But  Jess,  laughing  gaily,  plucked  his  gold  snuff- 
box from  his  hand,  and  crying :  "  Exchange !  Ex- 
change !  "  made  off  merrily.  At  the  door  she  paused 
a  moment  and,  with  another  shout  of  "  Powder ! 
Powder  and  shot !  "  aimed  the  puff-box  so  truly  at  Sir 
Thomas'  hat  that  she  sent  him  whirling  across  to  the 
mirror  to  brush  the  telltale  cosmetic  from  his  cheeks. 

When  he  turned  away  from  the  looking-glass  he 


136  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

encountered  a  little  maiden  all  in  grey.  Sedate, 
blushing,  her  hands  crossed  under  her  kerchief,  she 
curtseyed  low  and  raised  her  eyes. 

The  start  she  gave  was  almost  imperceptible,  but 
her  heart  beat  the  quicker  as  she  recognised  at  once 
the  old  gentleman  whose  cane  she  had  restored  at  the 
Greene  Shippe,  now  so  long  ago.  Sir  Thomas  had  no 
memory  of  the  barmaid  at  the  Inn,  and  was  fully  im- 
pressed with  the  idea  that  her  halt  was  due  to  his 
port  and  presence.  She  said  most  humbly  in  a  low 
and  measured  voice: 

"  Thee  is  the  manager  of  the  playhouse  ?  Nay, 
deny  it  not — I  know !  "  for  Sir  Thomas  fell  to  shak- 
ing his  head  most  emphatically,  standing  stock-still, 
but  getting  deeper  drunk  each  second  with  these  un- 
accustomed doses  of  beauty. 

"  Great  men  always  deny  their  greatness,"  the 
minx  added,  curtseying  again. 

"  Hoity-toity,  mistress,  I  am  nothing  of  the 
kind !  "  he  cried,  not  so  much  displeased  at  being  mis- 
taken for  what  he  was  not. 

"  Yea,  thee  is.  Lawk !  Can  I  not  see  it  in  the 
trick  of  thine  eye,  the  tie  of  thy  queue,  the  elegance 
of  thy  whole  aspect?  "  And  Pamela  dropped  him 
another  most  reverential  curtsey. 


'He  encountered  a  little  maiden  all  in  grey." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  137 

"  Damme !  "  whispered  Sir  Thomas  to  himself,  "  I'll 
see  how  it  feels  to  be  a  manager."  Then  with  added 
pompousness :  "  Ah-hem !  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  Everything,"  answered  she.  "  I  am  come  up  to 
London,  a  runaway  from  home,  to  make  my  fortune 
with  world's  people.  They  said  the  surest  road  to  't 
was  the  theatre;  they  said  thee  was  the  man  to  tell 
me  what  to  do.  Will  thee  ?  "  pleaded  the  puss. 

"  That  will  I,  all  in  my  power ! "  replied  the 
baronet,  now  strutting  with  such  dignity  that  Kitty 
almost  choked  on  the  lace  veil  she  stuffed  into  her 
mouth  to  restrain  her  mirth.  "  What's  your — ahem, 
— name?  " 

"  Pastorella.  What's  thy  name?  "  queried  she  in 
turn. 

"  I  am  Sir  Thomas  Trevor  of  Harlowe  House, 
Surrey,  at  your  service,"  he  answered  with  a  salute 
that  would  have  done  no  discredit  to  his  early  youth. 

Pamela  nodded,  then,  untying  her  bonnet  strings 
as  she  went,  she  fetched  an  ottoman  across  to  where 
Sir  Thomas  stood,  motioned  him  to  a  chair  and 
seated  herself  on  the  lowly  cushion  beside  him. 

"  Now,  Thomas,"  said  she,  as  the  old  man  men- 
tally congratulated  himself  on  the  prerogatives  of  a 
manager,  quite  forgetting  that  it  was  a  Quakeress 


138  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

that  addressed  him  thus ;  "  Thomas,  prithee  tell  me 
all  the  things  I  shall  have  to  learn  to  become  one  of 
thy  company  of  players  ?  " 

"Ecod!"  gasped  Sir  Thomas,  "  Pastorella," 
fairly  flushing  at  his  own  splendid  audacity,  "  you 
have  the  first  step  well  taken,  you  are  beautiful."  It 
was  said  in  a  whisper,  for  across  Sir  Thomas' 
vision,  charmed  though  it  was,  there  arose,  even  at 
this  point,  a  mirage  of  what  might  be  were  his  lady 
ever  to  find  out  this  encounter. 

"Lawk!"  cries  Pamela,  "Thomas,  thee  is  jest- 
ing." And  every  "  Thomas "  that  she  uttered 
merely  put  him  into  the  deeper  state  of  that  paradise 
which  is  the  fool's  and  the  wise  man's  alike,  when  a 
woman  makes  it  so.  "  Thomas,  what  else,  what 
else?  "  she  urged. 

"  Can  you  dance?  "  asked  he. 

"  Oh,  nay,  Thomas,  that  were  wicked." 

"  Play  the  harpsichord,  or  sing?  " 

"  Nay,  both  of  'em  open  gates  to  perdition,"  she 
answers  with  an  air  of  deep  solemnity. 

"Paint  your  face?"  added  the  baronet,  with  a 
glance  at  Meg's  mess  of  rabbit's  foot  and  carmine, 
and  actually  experiencing  a  thrill  of  joy  at  his  own 
temerity  of  speech. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  139 

"  Nay,  Thomas !  that  were  indeed  to  sell  myself 
to  Satan,"  and  with  one  small  finger  she  rubbed  the 
rouge  from  her  cheek  and  painted  a  spot  on  her  ker- 
chief, smiling  to  herself. 

"  Can  you  sigh,  Pastorella  ?  " 

"  Aye !  "  and  she  sighed  most  mournfully,  topping 
it  off  with  such  a  glance  as  threw  Kitty  into  a  fresh 
fit  of  mirth  behind  the  walls  of  Troy,  and  set  Sir 
Toby  shivering  anew. 

"  Can  you,"  Sir  Thomas  thumped  his  cane  ag- 
gressively, cleared  his  throat  loudly,  as  if  to  say 
"  who's  afraid ! "  and  then  went  on  boldly,  "  Pas- 
torella— can  you  ogle  ?  " 

"  Ogle  ?  "  repeated  Pamela,  as  if  puzzled  and  shak- 
ing her  pretty  head.  "  Ogle?  Nay,  Thomas,  I  can- 
not ogle.  I  know  not  even  what  it  is  to  ogle — but,  sit 
down,  prithee,"  plucking  lightly  at  his  sleeve,  for  he 
had  risen  in  his  excitement,  "  and,  Thomas,  now  teach 
me  how  to  ogle !  " 

At  this  juncture  the  walls  of  Troy  shook,  scatter- 
ing dust  in  the  eyes  of  the  pair  concealed  behind 
them.  Both  sneezed.  Pam,  quick  as  a  flash,  sneezed 
in  concert,  yet  Sir  Thomas  was  a  bit  disconcerted  and 
went  pounding  up  the  room. 

"  Damnation !  "  he  burst  out. 


140  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Then  Pam  stopped  her  ears,  horrified. 

"  I'll  gallop  the  road  to  kisses  if  I  look  into  her 
eyes  again,"  thought  Kitty's  father  as  he  paced, 
pompous,  proper,  up  and  down ;  recalled  to  his  senses 
and  his  mission  by  the  further  squeak  of  Troy's  walls 
beneath  his  daughter's  weight. 

"  Go  seek  Mistress  Congreve,  girl.  She'll  teach 
you  that  deviltry  of  ogling  to  your  fill !  " 

"  Is  she  the  devil  ?  "  asked  Pam,  her  suppressed 
mirth  almost  beyond  her  control. 

"  The  devil  she  is !  bewitching  the  town  and  all  the 
men  in  it ! "  The  baronet  gave  a  loud  rap  on  Mis- 
tress Congreve's  door  to  mark  his  speech. 

"  Thomas  !  "     Pam  utters  his  name  softly. 

"  Thomas !  "  says  she  a  bit  louder. 

"  Thomas ! "  repeats  the  mischief,  standing  in 
front  of  him,  her  bonnet  twirling  at  its  strings  before 
her. 

"  Is  this  Mistress  Congreve  more  bewitching  than 
I  am  ?  "  and  all  the  light  of  her  splendid  blue  eyes 
shone  full  up  into  his  face. 

"  Zounds !  she  cannot  be !  "  cries  he  in  ecstasy.  "  I 
never  saw  her,  but — listen,  Pastorella,  you  must 
come  to  Harlowe  House  for  the  Christmas  holidays. 
I  swear  to  you  I  am  no  manager,  but  I  have  a  daugh- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  141 

ter  Kitty,  who  shall  love  you.  Young  gallants, 
Rawdon,  Harlowe,  Spencer,  shall  teach  you  the  con- 
tredanse.  Will  you  come?" 

"  Thomas,"  answers  she,  "  if  you  leave  me  now  and 
go  find  Mistress  Congreve  whom  you  were  seeking 
when  I  came  in,  I'll  come !  "  Then,  like  a  flash,  she 
was  off  to  the  wings. 

"  Congreve !  the  minx,  the  hussy !  the  ogler,  the 
syren!  That  will  I — as  different  she  from  Pas- 
torella  as  night  from  day.  I'll  go  find  her,  to  her 
cost !  "  and  Sir  Thomas  ran  out  into  the  corridor. 

His  back  was  no  sooner  turned  than  out  popped 
Kitty  from  Troy's  ruins,  dragging  Toby  in  her 
wake,  and  Pam  peeped  in  from  the  side ;  and  such  a 
meeting  was  there  between  these  three  of  wit,  merri- 
ment, plan,  plot,  and  youthful  spirits  as  was  never 
heard  before,  with  Kitty  swearing  Pam  must  really 
come  for  the  holidays ;  Pam  thanking  Kitty  for  her 
goodness,  Toby  on  the  watch  tower,  terror  written 
in  his  waxen  features,  yet  still  heroically  eager  to 
do  Kitty's  will. 

Then  Pam  secreted  the  pair  on  a  step-ladder  be- 
hind Troy's  walls  to  watch  the  play,  and  as  Jess 
called  her,  tripped  off  to  show  London  town,  the 
King  and  Court,  how  Pastorella  should  be  played. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  ADORABLE  CAPTAIN  MIRABEAU 

BEAUCLERC  met  Sir  Thomas  at  the  door 
and  had  much   sport  in    luring  him   once 
again  to  White's.      The  hunchback    had 
had  speech  already  with  Lady  Betty  and  her  aunt  at 
the  door  of  their  chair,  and,  not  knowing  of  Kitty's 
opportune  arrival  on  the  scene,  was  beside  himself 
with  anxiety  lest  Pamela  should  be  met  and  flouted, 
unprepared,  by  this  brace  of  irate  ladies. 

In  vain  he  essayed,  once  Sir  Thomas  was  safe  in 
White's  at  a  game  of  whist,  to  reason  their  lady- 
ships out  of  their  purpose  and  the  precinct.  While 
the  elder  was  but  too  ready  to  go  home  faster  than 
she  came,  Betty  was  not  to  be  moved,  and  swore  she'd 
not  sleep  again  until  she'd  beheld  Mistress  Congreve 
at  short  range ;  nor  would  she  permit  Beauclerc  to 
leave  her,  but  bespoke  his  arm  to  lead  her  to  the 
greenroom. 

"  Tush,  aunt !  "  she  said ;  "  hold  your  peace.     Sit 
142 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  143 

still  in  the  chair,  since  you're  afraid  to  follow  my 
lead.  'Twill  not  be  long,  I  promise  you,  ere  I've 
made  the  hussy  understand  her  place.  Now,  Mr. 
Beauclerc,  sir,  if  you  please."  She  laid  a  plump 
hand  upon  the  poet's  arm,  and  out  she  tripped. 

He  trusted  to  be  able  to  involve  his  fair  companion 
in  some  labyrinthine  spot  behind  the  scenes,  and  there 
to  cage  her  while  he  went  forth  seemingly  to  seek  and 
fetch  Pamela,  but  in  reality  to  warn  her. 

Lady  Betty  upheld  her  skirts  most  loftily,  and 
went  forward  with  her  nose  sky-tilted  and  a  sneer 
upon  her  handsome  lips. 

"  Sir,  is  this  the  place  the  wench  frequents  ?  "  she 
asked,  stepping  ahead  of  the  hunchback,  unabashed 
by  the  strangeness  of  the  place,  peering  well  into  the 
greenroom,  which,  as  luck  and  Beauclerc's  prayers 
had  it,  was  quite  empty. 

"  A  most  vile  environment !  "  she  added,  inspecting 
the  place  with  a  malicious  scrutiny. 

"  'Tis  here,  Lady  Betty,  that  the  noblest  gentle- 
men in  England  deign  to  tread  and  count  it  honour," 
said  he,  walking  up  close  to  the  walls  of  Troy,  be- 
hind which  were  the  steps  containing  Kitty  and 
Toby. 

As  he  stood,  a  fan  attached  to  a  ribbon  fell  before 


144  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

his  face.  He  glanced  up  as  it  was  quickly  with- 
drawn. Lady  Betty  was  reading  the  name  on  Pam's 
door.  Beauclerc  beheld  Kitty  peeping  over  the  walls. 

"  Go ! "  she  cried  under  her  breath.  "  Mistress 
Congreve's  all  armed  cap-a-pie  for  Betty's  coming. 
Get  you  gone,  sir,  and  leave  the  two  to  fight  their 
battle,"  and  down  the  mischief  ducked,  leaving  the 
poet  convulsed  with  amazement  and  mirth. 

"  I  swear ! "  said  Lady  Betty,  "  'tis  a  hell-hole. 
Did  my  Uncle  Thomas  know  my  aunt  was  ever  so 
near  it  as  she  is,  he'd  divorce  her  on  the  spot/' 

"  Aye !  "  returned  the  hunchback. 

"  Mr.  Beauclerc,  why  does  she  not  come  forth  ? 
I've  sent  in  from  the  curb  now  by  one  they  called  her 
porter.  She  should  appear  before  me  at  once." 
Betty  now  grew  impatient,  as  the  tapping  of  her 
foot  upon  the  floor  plainly  showed. 

"  I  pledge  you  my  word,  my  lady,  if  you  will  but 
stop  here  long  enough,  la  Congreve's  bound  to  pass 
this  way.  You're  not  afraid?  I'll  leave  you  and 
return  anon  to  fetch  you,"  answered  Beauclerc,  now 
at  the  very  verge  of  laughter;  for  both  Kitty  and 
Toby  were  bobbing  up  and  down  as  Lady  Betty's 
motions  would  allow,  with  gestures  that  showed  their 
intense  amusement  and  impatience  for  the  fray. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  145 

"  Afraid !  "  echoed  Betty.  "  Sir,  you  mistake  me 
strangely.  Pray,  go  and  tell  my  aunt  I'm  aching 
for  the  encounter." 

The  poet  went  willingly  enough. 

"  S'lif e !  The  minx !  the  low-lived  sly-boots ! 
which  way  comes  she?  "  Lady  Betty  now  knocked 
so  heavily  upon  Troy's  walls  that  she  set  Sir  Toby's 
teeth  chattering  once  more.  "  I  would  I  knew  that  I 
might  the  better  set  my  face  against  the  vile  and  im- 
portuning baggage." 

Then  came  a  figure,  gallant  from  the  crown  to 
heel,  cautiously  from  the  shadowy  places  at  the  right, 
opposite  where  Lady  Betty  had  gone  exploring — a 
dashing  young  buck  accoutred  in  scarlet  and  white 
satin,  gold  lace,  point  de  Paris,  a  wig  as  white  as 
powder  could  make  it,  a  sword  now  swinging  free  of 
its  scabbard  and  jewelled  at  the  hilt,  fobs  and  seals 
dangling,  as  well  as  a  most  impudent  glass  stuck  in 
the  corner  of  his  eye. 

This  gallant  figure  sought  the  mirror  at  once,  and 
assumed  before  it  a  pose  as  if  saluting  at  the  least 
a  lady  of  quality. 

"  Ha,  sapristi!  What  a  man  am  I ! "  said  he. 
"  Your  servant,  Captain  Mirabeau.  How  do  I  re- 
semble a  veritable  coxcomb,  by  my  life.  A  man  of 


146  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

vogue !  a  macaroni,  a  buck  of  the  first  water ! " 
Pam,  for  the  first  time  in  her  career  in  man's  attire, 
fell  on  one  knee  before  the  looking-glass  and  care- 
fully inspected  herself.  "  Who'd  ever  guess  that 
beneath  these  ruffles  and  furbelows  beat  a  heart  that 
sometimes  ached?  Oh,  London  town!  ribbons  and 
fallals;  readin',  writin',  learnin',  Pam's  got  'em  all 
and  much  beside." 

The  encounter  with  Sir  Thomas  had  set  her 
thoughts  backward  on  the  dial,  and  the  madcap 
spirit  for  a  moment  forsook  her.  She  rose  from  her 
knee  and  stood  irresolute,  leaning  on  her  rapier. 
Should  she  run  off  and  away  to  the  wings  now  and 
wait  her  cue,  leaving  this  Lady  Betty  to  her  own 
devices?  Who  might  Lady  Betty  be?  Since  Sir 
Thomas  had  proved  to  be  a  personage  out  of  her 
past,  was  it  not  reasonable  that  his  niece  might  like- 
wise turn  out  one  of  those  great  ladies  who  were  in 
his  company  at  the  Greene  Shippe  long  ago? 

Even  while  Pam  pondered  a  clatter  of  tongues  and 
shouts  of  laughter  reached  her  ears,  over  which  rang 
out  a  lively  scream. 

Lady  Betty,  in  her  investigations,  had  penetrated 
to  the  spot  where  the  Quakers  of  one  play  were  occu- 
pied in  transforming  themselves  into  the  French  sol- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  147 

diery  of  another,  making  not  the  least  account  of  her 
presence.  So  she  screamed,  turned  to  flee,  took  the 
wrong  passage,  was  not  too  gently  turned  about  by 
the  supe  she  ran  into,  and  found  herself  spinning 
back  into  the  greenroom  in  a  temper  which  it  would 
have  been  hard  to  match. 

Pam  moved  up  as  Lady  Betty  came  twirling  down, 
but  she  saw  the  face  as  she  stood  concealed  by  the 
screen  at  the  farther  end.  It  was  a  face  she  had  seen 
before — a  face  that  recalled  Pelham  to  her,  and  made 
her  pause  anew :  made  her  draw  away  with  a  shiver. 

Then  Jess  peeped  around  from  the  other  wing,  and 
whispered,  pointing  down  to  Lady  Betty,  who  was  in 
a  paroxysm,  "  Quick,  madam,  quick !  " 

"  The  quicker  the  better,  say  I ! "  answered  Pam, 
all  the  intense  gaiety  of  half  her  nature  called  into 
sudden  impetuosity  by  Lady  Betty's  speech.  She 
motioned  Jess  away. 

Lady  Betty,  now  mastering  her  tears,  cried,  shak- 
ing her  fist  at  Pam's  door:  "So,  it's  thence  she'll 
come  to  learn  her  lesson!  I'll  teach  her  to  wile 
away  all  hearts.  She'll  be  affrighted  at  my  sum- 
mons, doubtless,  and  come  with  curtseyings,  cozen- 
ings;  I'll  show  her  the  road  to  trembling  by  the 
righteous  sharpness  of  my  speech.  I  wonder  what 


148  PAMELA    CONGREV(E 

does  she  look  like?  Painted,  plastered,  a  thing  of 
frills  and  feathers,  perfumed  like  the  civet  cat. 
Ugh ! "  And  Betty  flirted  her  handkerchief  across 
her  face  with  an  expression  of  disgust,  all  uncon- 
scious of  an  excellent  imitation  by  Pamela.  "  Sim- 
pering, silly,"  she  continued.  "  La !  la !  la !  "  Her 
voice  grew  higher  and  louder  as  she  now  sought 
Pam's  door  and  beat  vehemently  upon  it.  "  Come 
out,  I  say !  " 

"  I  come !  "  called  Pamela  lustily,  as  she  rushed  to 
the  side  of  the  angry  visitor,  her  rapier  waving  above 
her  head,  her  eyes  sparkling,  and  her  lips  curving 
with  more  than  a  suggestion  of  laughter.  Then, 
with  a  strong  foreign  accent  to  her  words, 
"  Sacre-e-e-e,  madame !  Who  ees  eet  dares  molest  a 
ladi  in  deestress  ?  "  Pamela  crossed  and  recrossed 
the  room,  turning  about  in  search  of  a  supposed  as- 
sailant, while  Lady  Betty,  thrown  into  a  fresh  flut- 
ter, surreptitiously  sought  the  mirror  to  compose  her 
features. 

"  Le  Capitaine  Mirabeau ! "  continued  Pamela, 
with  a  fine  flourish  of  rapier  to  sheath,  hat  under 
arm,  hand  upon  heart,  bowing  profoundly  before  her 
ladyship.  Whatever  memory  of  her  first  meeting 
with  Betty  lay  in  her  brain,  there  was  no  hint  of  it 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  149 

on  the  radiant  countenance  which  now  confronted 
Sir  Thomas'  lively  niece. 

"  Le  Capitaine  Mirabeau  of  ze  guard  of  his  Majeste 
ze  Keeng  of  France  ees  evair  ze  protector  of  beauty 
een  misfortune ! "  Such  a  glance  as  would  have 
melted  a  less  inflammable  heart  than  Lady  Betty's 
went  with  this  speech,  delivered  in  a  bewitching  ac- 
cent that  did  great  credit  to  the  instructions  of  Mon- 
sieur Gimbart. 

"  Monsieur !  "  exclaimed  her  ladyship,  "  I  am  but 
too  grateful.  I  am  Lady  Betty " 

"  Ah,  madame,  no  matter  who  you  are — you  are 
beautiful — eet  ees  enough!  Now,  madame,  I  im- 
plore you  to  tell  me  where  ees  ze  man  who  frightened 
you  when  I  entair  ?  "  Such  martial  bravery  now 
spoke  in  Pam's  mien  as  made  even  the  Amazonian 
Betty  quail. 

"  For,"  continued  Pam,  "  when  I  see  heem,  I  keel 
heem ! " 

"  Ah,  monsieur,  I  was  needlessly  alarmed !  "  Betty 
answered,  praying  Heaven  to  keep  the  actress  bag- 
gage out  of  the  way.  "  'Twas  a  person  of  no  ac- 
count, no  one." 

"  Ha !  ha !  well  for  heem ! "  cried  Pam,  "  for,  mi- 
ladi,  you  see  zis  sword?  Wiz  heem  I  keel  fourteen  offi- 


150  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

cairs,  twenty-three  men,  ten  tigers,  seven  lions,  five 
anacondas!  Sacre,  when  I  am  excited!  I  scattair 
ze  death  so :  ze  right  and  ze  left !  "  Pam  picked  up 
a  pack  of  cards  from  the  top  of  the  bass  drum,  and 
sent  them  deftly  whirling  up  the  room  in  a  shower. 
"  You  see?  You  may  confide  yourself  to  Mirabeau." 
And  she  bent  on  Betty  the  tenderest  glances. 

"  I  am  sure  of  it ! "  returned  the  fickle  Betty,  her 
mind  made  up  within  the  minute  to  cut  the  recreant 
Pelham  and  the  dawdling  Harlowe  with  this  new 
French  blade.  It  was  not  long  before  she  had  led 
the  conversation  artfully  to  the  point  she  wished  to 
reach. 

"  Sir,  my  aunt,  Lady  Trevor,  will  be  here  anon 
to  fetch  me,  and  I  will  present  you  to  her.  I  do 
pledge  myself  she  shall  be  but  too  eager  to  win  the 
consent  of  so  distinguished  a  visitor  to  spend  some 
time  with  us  at  Harlowe  House." 

Then,  indeed,  Troy's  wall  quaked !  But  Betty  was 
too  deep  in  her  scheme  to  mind  a  trifle  of  that  kind, 
and  she  bent  gracious  eyes  on  Pam,  and  even  pressed 
ever  so  little  the  hand  that  raised  her  own  to  Mira- 
beau's  lips. 

"  Miladi,"  answered  Pamela,  "  wis  ze  greatest 
pleasure  I  accept,  eef  you  pairmit  me  to  say  I  cannot 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  151 

come  before  ze  holidays,  what  you  call?  Noel!  ah, 
ze  Chreesmas,  yais !  " 

"  With  all  my  heart !  "  cried  Betty,  instantly  ,plan- 
ning  for  every  gallant  she  knew  to  be  asked  to  Har- 
lowe  for  Yule-tide.  Yet,  envious  as  a  true  coquette 
of  the  least  hint  of  anything  that  may  be  taking 
precedence  of  herself,  she  added :  "  Will  not  Monsieur 
Mirabeau  tell  me  what  or  who  'tis  detains  him  up 
in  town  from  now  till  the  holidays,  some  three  months 
off?" 

"  Ze  engagement,  madame,  ze  affaire ;  I  come  from 
France  to  see  ze  life  of  your  grand  monde,  ze 

rout,  ze  ridotto,  ze  Vauxhall,  ze  Court,  ze  theatre. 
ze » 

"  Ah,  the  theatre !  Have  you  seen  the  Congreve?  " 
asked  Betty,  her  dark  brows  contracting. 

"  Nevair,  madame !  "  answered  Pam.   "  And  you  ?  " 

"Not  I!"  returned  Betty.  "Report  hath  her 
beautiful." 

"  Ah,  zey  tell  me  zat  to-night  she  look  precisely 
like  a  man,"  retorted  Pam,  brimming  with  her  mis- 
chief, edging  up  to  Troy,  and  rapping  the  walls  to 
such  a  tune  as  set  Sir  Toby  shivering  again. 

"  Aha ! "  smiles  Lady  Betty,  well  pleased  at  this 
account.  "  One  of  your  teasing,  swearing,  hoyden 


152  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

sort  ?  "     And  she  thought,  "  No  gallant  will  ever 
stick  long  to  such." 

Then  Pam:  "Parbleu!  S'death!  Egad!  Zounds! 
By  Heavens,  madame,  yais!  She  do  just  like  zat! 
I  swear  !  by  gad  !  "  And  Captain  Mirabeau  pranced 
up  and  down  the  greenroom  at  such  a  pretty  pace 
as  set  the  dust  flying  and  Betty's  heart  going  with 


"  Monsieur,  can  la  Congreve  dance  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  I  have  never  seen  her  do  so,"  answered  Pam. 
"  But  madame  weel  geeve  me  ze  promise  to  dance 
wis  me  on  ze  Chreesmas  Eve  ?  " 

"  That  will  I  with  all  my  heart,"  replied  her  lady- 
ship tenderly,  when  in  upon  this  pretty  scene  flounced 
my  Lady  Trevor.  Then  there  were  presentations  and 
bowings,  curtseyings,  mutual  delights,  invitations, 
acceptances.  They  were  broken  by  the  quick  en- 
trance of  the  call  boy  with  a  word  to  Pam  :  "  Mira- 
beau, the  stage  waits  for  you  !  " 

"  Mesdames,  you  hear?  "  said  Pamela,  sending  the 
boy  flying  with  a  merry  prick  of  her  weapon. 

"  Ze  stage  —  coach  —  waits  !  "  A  kiss  upon  Lady 
Trevor's  hand,  its  mate  upon  Betty's.  "  Eet  takes 
me  to  fight  a  duel  !  " 

Screams  from  both  the  fair  ones  greeted  this  an- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  153 

nouncement,  Betty's  coupled  with  a  promise  to 
swoon,  of  which  she  thought  better  when  she  saw 
Mirabeau's  arms  were  not  outstretched. 

"  Ha !  fear  not !  "  Pam  kissed  her  finger-tips,  and 
poured  all  the  glamour  of  her  eyes  straight  into 
Betty's  own.  "  Fear  not,  sweet  miladi,  I  keel  heem 
every  night  from  now  teel  Chreesmas.  Au  revoir, 
a  bientot!  " 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  DEED  TO  HARLOWE  HOUSE 


1 


,  to  the  tune  of  "  Marlborough's  Man 
a-Courting  Went,"  Pamela  made  her  en- 
trance from  the  greenroom  to  the  waiting 
stage.  Presently,  the  innocent  ladies  could  hear  the 
applause  in  thunders,  little  guessing  their  cause — 
that  King,  Prince,  and  Courtiers  were  beholding 
Mirabeau  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives,  too. 

Lady  Betty,  settling  her  furbelows,  looked  up  at 
her  aunt's  query,  "  Well,  niece,  you've  seen  the  Con- 
greve?  " 

"  La,  aunt,  no !  with  such  a  beau  as  this  French 
gallant,  I  thanked  Fate  she  kept  to  her  room.  Lis- 
ten, I've  planned  how  to  bring  Pelham  to  his  senses, 
and  Harlowe,  too.  We'll  have  a  party  at  the  holi- 
days, with  Mirabeau  for  the  lodestone,  and  trust 
me,  I'll  so  play  off  my  card  from  across  the  Channel, 
as  will  set  them  to  their  paces,  if  there's  any  heart 
in  'em  at  all." 

154 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  155 

"If  there  isn't,  what  then?"  inquired  Lady 
Trevor  guilelessly. 

"  Damnation !  madam,  as  my  Uncle  Thomas  says," 
cried  Betty.  "  What  d'ye  mean?  " 

"  I  mean,"  retorted  the  older  lady,  "  you're  here 
to  clap  a  stop  on  the  actress  jade,  and  you're  moved 
off  your  purpose  by  the  first  gallant  you  encounter. 
I  mean  that  if  by  coquetting  with  Mirabeau  you 
hope  to  bring  down  Pelham  or  Harlowe,  you're  mis- 
took. They're  both  too  deep  in  their  adoration  of 
la  Congreve.  I  have  it  direct  from  Mr.  Beauclerc. 
None  knows  the  gossip  of  the  town  so  well !  I  mean," 
concluded  Lady  Trevor,  her  voice  rising,  as  is  the 
fashion  with  many  ladies,  to  match  the  overflow  of 
their  tempers.  "  I  mean  you've  brought  your  aunt 
into  an  accursed  hole  of  Satan's  own  domain,  where, 
if  my  poor  dear  Sir  Thomas  were  to  know " 

And  at  this  instant,  while  Troy's  walls  cracked 
ominously,  and  four  eyes  peered  through  the  chink, 
were  heard  advancing  footsteps,  the  well-known 
thump  of  a  cane.  Lady  Trevor  and  Lady  Betty 
popped  on  their  masks,  and  shrank  down  in  a  corner 
of  the  greenroom  as  Sir  Thomas  entered,  blustering, 
Godfrey  Gimbart  at  his  heels  in  unavailing  remon- 
strance. 


156  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  'Tis  Mistress  Congreve  I  will  see  now,  sirrah," 
cries  he.  "  If  you  lock  the  doors  you  lock  me  inside, 
but  I'll  view  the  hussy  ere  I  sleep  to-night ! " 

Then  rang  out,  from  the  house  beyond,  the  wildest 
sort  of  applause.  Then  the  lutes  and  viols  played 
their  bravest;  posies  fell  thickly  upon  the  stage; 
then  the  soul  of  the  manager  was  filled  with  joy; 
and  in  the  midst  of  all  this  hubbub  in  rushed  Pamela 
to  the  greenroom,  her  quick  eye  taking  in  the  whole 
scene. 

Down  she  ran  to  Sir  Thomas,  her  hands  meekly 
crossed  upon  her  breast,  notwithstanding  Mirabeau's 
garments,  and  she  said :  "  So  thee  shall,  Thomas,  so 
thee  shall!" 

"  Thou !  Damnation !  This  is  monstrous !  Where 
am  I?  "  The  testy  baronet  floundered  from  side  to 
side  of  the  room,  until  he  brought  up  in  touch  of  his 
lady's  swishing  taffetas. 

"  Where  are  ye? "  cried  she,  snatching  off  her 
mask,  now  intent  only  upon  the  confusion  of  her 
lord.  "  You're  here  in  the  greenroom  of  a  theatre, 
cruel,  infamous,  deceitful !  " 

"  Tut,  tut,  my  lady ! "  returned  Sir  Thomas, 
planting  his  stick.  "  By  my  life !  now  where  are 
you?  " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  157 

"  Sacre-e-e,  madame !  "  cried  Pam,  rushing  to  the 
rescue,  while  the  walls  of  Troy  fell  in  final  ruin,  and 
in  trooped  Harlowe,  Beauclerc,  and  Rawdon,  with  a 
dozen  more  young  gentlemen  of  the  highest  fashion. 

"  Mirabeau  count  ze  hours  until  he  go  to  ze  Har- 
lowe House  to  spend  ze  Chreesmas  wis  you,"  kissing 
Betty's  finger-tips  as  before,  "  and — Thomas !  " 

There  were  shouts  now  from  the  house  of:  "  Con- 
greve !  Congreve !  Congreve !  "  and  the  call  boy  made 
a  dash  to  pull  Pam  away,  while  Doddington  and  Jess 
were  cloaking  her. 

"  If  you  be  she,"  said  Betty,  with  a  new  sternness, 
"  'twill  be  for  your  good  that  you  never  dare  show 
your  face  within  a  mile  of  Harlowe  House,  you 
jade!" 

"  Tush,  Betty,"  said  her  uncle,  clapping  his  hand 
over  her  mouth,  and,  for  his  pains,  getting  a  bite 
from  her  sharp,  white  teeth. 

"  Your  pardons  all,"  now  said  Harlowe,  "  but  lend 
me  your  presence  for  a  moment  longer  only.  Mis- 
tress Congreve,  is  it  allowed  one  to  ask  you  if  you've 
yet  read  the  letter  sent  you  to-night  in  a  nosegay  ?  " 

"  That  I  have  not,"  answered  Pamela,  "  nor  did 
I  even  know  there  was  one.  Jess,  girl,  fetch  me  the 
letter." 


158  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Harlowe  waited  till  it  was  in  her  hands,  and  then 
continued  gravely,  "  Read  it  aloud  now,  if  you 
will." 

"  'Tis  no  letter !  "  cried  Pam,  in  amazement,  "  but 
rather  a  deed." 

"  To  Harlowe  House !  "  the  Duke  added. 

"  Our  house !  "  exclaimed  Lady  Trevor. 

"  Nay,  madam,  not  ours,  as  you're  well  aware, 
but  rented,  and  in  arrears;  and  out  we  go  at  once." 
And  Sir  Thomas,  lost  between  the  delight  of  his 
wife's  confusion  and  the  doubtful  balance  of  his  own 
position,  pounded  the  floor  uproariously. 

Pamela  raised  her  hand  to  beg  for  silence,  all  the 
mischief  dying  out  of  her  eyes,  as  she  took  in  the 
sorry  situation  brought  about  by  her  mirthful  wager. 
"  Nay,  Sir  Thomas  Trevor  and  my  lady,  tarry, 
tarry  as  long  as  ye  will,  I  pray  you,  for  I  can  live 
nowhere  but  in  London,  even  should  I  accept  his 
Grace's  gift  to  the  player.  But  I  will  go  down  at 
Christmas-tide,  as  I  have  promised  ye  all."  And 
then  the  applause  in  the  greenroom  echoed  as  loud 
as  that  without. 

"  Sweet  ladies,  fair  sirs,  fail  me  not  every  one 
that's  here  to-night;  be  there  when  I  come,  if  ye 
love  me — or,  if  ye  love  me  not,"  she  added  with  a 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  159 

smile  at  Betty.  "  I  swear  this  one  I  bid  you  to  '11 
be  the  merriest  Christmas  of  any  you  did  ever  see." 
From  behind  the  crumbling  ruins  of  the  Trojan 
citadel  Kitty  jumped  out,  dragging  Toby  by  the 
ear,  and  kissed  Pamela  and  hugged  her,  while  Sir 
Thomas,  meek  and  dejected,  was  led  away  out  of 
the  pit  of  perdition  by  his  lady,  assisted  by  Betty, 
making  the  best  of  it  as  she  could ;  all  thanking  Fate 
they  were  not  to  be  turned  out  of  doors  yet  awhile. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   PARAMOUNT    THIED 

PAM  went  home  with  Godfrey  and  Jess,  as  her 
custom  was,  the  two  pairs  of  pattens  click- 
ing on  the  wet  pavements,the  lad  carrying 
above  his  mistress'  head  an  immense  oilskin  umbrella, 
one  of  the  few  then  to  be  seen  in  London.  The 
Duke  of  Harlowe's  invitation  to  supper  had  been 
declined,  and  his  Grace,  with  Rawdon  and  Beau- 
clerc,  were  fain  to  content  themselves  by  turning 
back  to  White's,  where,  as  a  matter  of  course,  Lord 
Charteris  was  already  at  it  with  commerce  and  a 
thousand  guineas  in  the  pool. 

"  Your  servant,  sirs,"  he  said,  as  the  trio  entered 
and  seated  themselves  near  him  for  a  game  of 
ombre. 

"  Ha,  Charteris !  "  cried  Rawdon,  "  I  thought  you 
begged  me  most  abjectly  for  a  presentation  to  Mis- 
tress Congreve  in  the  greenroom  to-night.  Why 
were  you  not  there?  " 

160 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  161 

"  I'd  a  fancy  for  putting  off  the  pleasure,"  re- 
turned the  other,  his  tone  careless,  but  his  shrewd 
eye  taking  a  top  peep  at  his  opponent's  hand  while 
he  spoke.  "  Is't  not  the  manner  of  an  epicure  to 
procrastinate  for  his  choicest  morsel,  in  order  that 
his  palate  may  be  whetted  to  the  highest  pitch  by 
that  sharpest  of  all  lances,  impatience?  Eh,  Beau- 
clerc,  have  I  not  the  right  of  it?  " 

Beauclerc  did  not  reply  at  once. 

In  Harlowe's  eyes  the  fire  flashed.  To  hear  Pam- 
ela spoken  of  thus,  in  a  tone  of  half -derisive  im- 
pudence, sent  his  right  hand  to  his  hilt,  and,  had  he 
not  dreaded  the  entangling  of  her  name  with  this 
blackguard's,  as  he  mentally  called  him,  blood  would 
have  spilled  within  the  quarter  hour. 

"  Indeed,  my  lord,"  now  spoke  the  hunchback, 
"  during  your  absence  abroad,  London  has  come  to 
think  la  Congreve  needs  no  whet !  'Tis  a  lady  most 
fine,  adorable,  and  beautiful  in  every  way." 

"  Ha ! "  laughed  Charteris,  as  he  raked  in  his 
winnings,  "  'pon  my  life !  our  poet's  in  the  meshes 
deep,  it  seems." 

"  Too  deep,  sir,  for  jest,"  and  the  pale  face  of 
the  hunchback  became  paler. 

"  What  says  his  Grace  of  Harlowe? "  inquired 


162  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Charteris,  surveying  the  Duke  with  a  stare  of  sub- 
dued interest. 

"  On  what  subject,  sir?  "  asked  Harlowe. 

"  The  one  under  discussion." 

"  Name  it."  There  was  a  hint  of  danger  in  the 
Duke's  intonation,  but  the  poet's  lean  hand  was  laid 
upon  his  knee,  and  he  strove  to  compose  himself. 

"  The  newest  mode  in  players ! "  smiled  Pelham. 
"La  Congreve;  what  is  your  opinion  of  her,  eh?" 
The  tone  is  one  of  covert  insult,  but  his  Grace  is  de- 
termined that  no  quarrel  shall  arise  upon  Pamela. 

"  Too  complex  and  too  perfectly  respectful,  my 
lord,  to  bandy  about  a  gambling  table." 

Charteris'  eyebrows  lift,  and  he  smiled  ambigu- 
ously. 

"  This  lady's  parts,  forsooth,  seem  to  enchain  the 
flower  of  the  ton.  S'death!  gentlemen,  what's  the 
peculiar  fascination  of  her?  Come  you,  sir  poet,  let 
us  hear.  Is  it  beauty,  wit,  merely  youth  and  spirits, 
or  what,  that  crowns  her  quite  a  nonesuch  in  your 
estimation?  " 

"  She  has  youth,  prettiness,"  Beauclerc  was  glad 
to  have  the  chance  to  take  the  burden  of  the 
response  upon  himself  for  more  reasons  than  one. 
"  By  my  faith,  a  most  engaging  pair,  but  la  Con- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  163 

greve  possesses,  sir,  that  paramount  third  that  never 
has  been  defined,  the  quintessence  men  call,  for  lack 
of  other  way  to  name  it,  Charm:  without  which  no 
woman,  however  beautiful,  is  aught  else  than  your 
dull,  insufferable,  deadly  average." 

There  was  a  heavenly  glow  upon  the  thin  face  as 
Beauclerc  spoke,  a  something  that  transfigured  all 
his  homely  features.  There  was  a  pause  in  even  the 
rattle  of  the  dice-boxes,  and  then  the  applause  rang 
out,  and  an  enthusiastic  youngster  cried:  "  Sir,  you 
should  be  laureate  were  I  King ! " 

A  hundred  voices  shouted,  "  Aye,  aye ! "  and  a 
bumper  was  drunk  to  Beauclerc  in  Burgundy ; 
Charteris  drinking  the  deepest  and  shouting  the 
loudest. 

But  every  vein  in  Harlowe's  body  ached  to  stretch 
itself  and  measure  its  power  with  the  man  whom 
instinctively  his  Grace  knew  for  his  enemy  from  this 
hour. 

Beauclerc  looked  at  his  friend:  he  saw  the  storm 
rising,  and  determined  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  allay 
it — so  he  sang  out  lightly  as  the  laughter  subsided: 
"  Now,  Charteris,  since  I've  complied  with  your  de- 
sire, pray  you,  sir,  tell  us  all  here,  your  friends  and 
comrades,  what  it  was  took  you  so  suddenly  out  of 


164  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

England  and  kept  you  in  France  until  a  few  weeks 
since?  " 

"  Aye,  aye !  "  cried  the  whole  company. 

"  Come,  Charteris ! "  called  Rawdon,  young  and 
ripe  for  a  romance ;  the  kind  of  dear  fellow  who  saw 
the  fringe  of  a  pretty  petticoat  swishing  behind 
every  move  a  man  made.  "  Come,  now !  was  it  not 
for  a  lady's  sake  you  fled  away  ?  " 

There  was  a  slight  pause,  cards  held  high,  and 
boxes  silent,  lips  apart,  two  dozen  pairs  of  eyes  ex- 
pectant, fixed  on  Charteris'  handsome  face. 

He  smiled. 

"  You  mean,  Rawdon,  the  mystery  of  the  stab  I 
got  in  my  ribs  at  the  Greene  Shippe  more  than  a 
twelvemonth  since,  and  self -banishment  into  France, 
eh?  "  he  asked  deliberately. 

Lord  Rawdon  nodded,  and  still  the  dice  were  quiet, 
and  the  eyes  fixed. 

"  Well,  my  lords  and  gentlemen,  I  do  confess  'twas 
for  sake  of  a  lovely  face  I  quitted  England.  Noth- 
ing out  of  the  ordinary,  I  do  assure  you;  a  tale 
every  man  of  ton  knows  by  heart ;  a  kiss,  and  some- 
thing more,  satiety,  disappearance;  an  unexpected 
meeting  at  an  inn."  Charteris  laughed  unpleasantly 
as  he  threw  down  his  cards.  "  Recriminations, 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  165 

threats,  attempted  murder!  Zounds,  sirs!  were  not 
absence  and  silence  the  better  part,  if  I  would  pre- 
sume to  woo  an  adorable  lady  ?  "  He  raised  his  glass 
to  his  lips,  and  at  the  signal  every  gentleman  did 
the  same.  "  Here's  to  Lady  Betty  Wyndham !  "  he 
concluded  seriously. 

"  By  my  life !  "  cried  Harlowe,  "  I  do  remember 
seeing  a  girl  there  near  you,  where  you  lay  when  I 
entered ! " 

Charteris  turned  paler  than  his  wont,  his  hand 
shook,  but  he  squared  around,  and  looked  steadily 
into  the  Duke's  face.  In  that  second  of  palpitating 
uncertainty  he  had  much  to  think  of. 

But  Harlowe  was  still  speaking.  "  I  descried  not 
her  face."  Charteris  did  not  move  a  muscle,  but  the 
peril  was  past,  and  his  breath  came  more  freely. 
"  She  would  not  turn  her  head,  even  at  my  entreaties. 
Was  it  she  ?  "  he  added.  He  could  not  have  told  why 
he  put  the  question;  it  was  one  of  those  impulses 
toward  the  fulfilment  of  Destiny's  wild  schemes  to 
which  we  are  all  mere  servants. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Charteris  with  a  shrug.  "  It  was 
she.  She  was  beautiful,  and,  I  believe,  true  to  me." 
His  curving  mouth  droops  into  a  smile  of  supreme 
self-satisfaction. 


166  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  What's  become  of  her?  "  gasped  the  young  Ro- 
mantic, importunate  for  a  sentimental  ending. 

"  Tush,  Rawdon,  lad ! "  and  Harlowe  laid  a  re- 
straining hand  on  his  junior's  arm. 

"  Let  alone !  "  cried  Charteris.  "  A  proper  ques- 
tion, sir,  and  easily  answered,  for  I  fancied  an  hour 
ago  only  I  recognised  her  among  the  sirens  of  the 
stage.  Perhaps,  who  knows?  I'll  get  the  chance 
of — er — renewing  old  associations." 

There  was  such  a  sneer  in  the  tone  as  moved  Har- 
lowe's  hand  once  more  toward  his  hilt.  Always  a 
knight  errant,  ready  to  fight  a  woman's  battle,  be 
she  who  she  might,  he  was  insensibly  eager  to  cross 
swords  with  this  man.  He  felt  in  his  blood  a  tingling 
itch  to  run  him  through,  and  nothing  now  was  to  hold 
him  back.  All  the  while,  too,  he  saw  Pamela's  face 
before  him,  and  he  said  quietly  to  the  Earl: 

"  Why  not  marry  her?  " 

The  silence  of  expectation  in  the  room  grew  more 
intense.  Beauclerc's  arm  was  laid  in  warning  upon 
Harlowe's  shoulder,  only  to  be  shaken  off;  and  the 
one  man  there  who  seemed  absolutely  unmoved  was 
Lord  Charteris. 

He  had  no  mind  to  be  laid  up  with  a  wound,  and 
so  done  out  of  the  future  he  had  planned  with  Pam- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  167 

ela;  no  mind  for  anything  but  to  lay  hands  on  all 
the  money  he  could  get,  go  to  her,  and  lay  his  heart 
at  her  feet ;  for  he  was  more  her  passionate  adorer 
now  than  ever  he  was  in  the  old  days.  He  answered 
Harlowe,  therefore,  with  a  derisive,  compassionate 
smile.  "  What  a  devilish  fine  business  the  parsons  and 
the  ring-makers  'd  do,  Harlowe,  if  you  had  the  rul- 
ing of  us  men  of  fashion,  ha !  ha !  ha !  " 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha !  "  echoed  all  down  the  room. 

Beauclerc  whispered  to  Harlowe : 

"  For  God's  sake,  out  of  this.  Tarry  not  a  mo- 
ment longer,  for,  on  my  life,  if  you  do,  Charteris  may 
drag  her  name  into  any  quarrel  that  ensues,  and 
that,  although  she's  never  seen  him,  would  be  dam- 
nable. Come ! " 

Harlowe  put  the  hunchback  gently  aside;  he 
sheathed  his  rapier ;  took  up  his  hat,  and  crossed  to 
where  Charteris  sat  lolling  in  defiant,  careless  ease: 

"  Sir,"  said  he,  "  it  is  too  evident  you  are  shy  of 
a  challenge  to-night.  Every  gentleman  here  can 
bear  me  witness  to  this  fact.  'Tis  well  I  leave  you 
without  one,  but,  by  Gad!  my  Lord  Charteris,  the 
next  time  we  sit  at  table  you'll  not  get  off  so  easily ! 
Our  meeting's  but  postponed,  sir,  not  annulled,  and 
if  you  will  have  a  cause  for  our  quarrel,  'tis  this — 


168  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

I'll  fight  for  the  nameless  girl  who  by  your  own  show- 
ing was  true  to  you.  Your  servant,  my  lord !  "  He 
bowed  to  the  ground,  saluting  the  whole  company 
with  one  courteous,  "  Gentlemen ! "  and,  linking 
arms  with  the  poet,  left  the  room. 

Charteris  laughed  loud  and  long — when  once  the 
door  was  closed. 

"By  my  faith,  now,  will  you?"  said  he  between 
his  shut  teeth. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

THE    HOUR    BEFORE    THE    DAWN 

WHEN  the  two  gentlemen  went  out  from 
White's,  by   a  common   impulse  their 
footsteps  turned  in  the  direction  of  the 
river,    down    Gooseberry    Lane,    passing    Monsieur 
Gimbart's  shop,  and  thence  to   the  gardens  on  the 
bank. 

The  rain  had  ceased,  the  mists  hung  low,  the  soft 
plashing  of  the  tide  against  the  little  pier  was  the 
one  sound  to  break  the  silence,  for  every  reveller  had 
long  since  gone,  and  not  a  light  shone  from  any  win- 
dow but  one. 

Both  men  saw  it,  and  knew  in  whose  casement  it 
flickered.  Their  arms  parted;  the  Duke  turned  up 
the  path,  while  the  hunchback  set  his  face  the  other 
way. 

They  could  not  speak  to  each  other  of  her  whose 
image  filled  both  their  hearts.  It  was  a  curious 
friendship,  for  while  each  well  knew  the  measure  of 

169 


170  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

the  other's  passion,  this  bred  no  angry  rivalry,  but 
the  rather  a  strange  sympathetic  comradeship,  which 
was  as  admirable  as  it  was  rare. 

It  is  true  that  a  man  like  Harlowe,  so  handsome 
in  face,  figure,  and  mien,  could  hardly  have  felt  the 
pangs  of  jealousy  to  the  cause  of  a  misshapen  creature 
like  Beauclerc;  yet  a  young  gentleman  in  love  is  as 
apt  to  be  jealous  of  one  as  of  another.  As  for  the 
poet,  his  was  a  mind  of  infinite  justice,  which  could  sit 
apart  in  judgment  on  his  own  heart  and  body;  his 
passion  of  love  was  overwhelming,  but  his  passion  of 
solicitude  for  the  loved  one  no  whit  less.  To  Beauclerc 
nothing  in  this  world  was  so  desirable  as  Pamela's 
happiness.  He  knew  it  was  not  for  him  to  make  it; 
he  hoped  for  nothing;  so  far  as  he  knew  himself, 
even  in  his  thoughts,  to  be  the  Duke's  rival  was  no 
part  of  his  fancies.  If  she  smiled  upon  him,  he  basked 
in  the  sunshine,  for  she  never  frowned  his  way ;  if  she 
forgot  him,  well,  some  day,  perhaps,  she  would  re- 
member him  again.  And  ever  through  his  mind  there 
ran  the  old-time  tale  of  that  fair  lady,  who,  when 
she  had  teased  every  gallant  at  the  Court  and  torn 
their  hearts  to  shreds  with  her  caprices,  at  last  gave 
her  whole  self  into  the  keeping  of  a  gentleman  more 
ill-favoured  than  himself.  It  was  this  conceit  that 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  171 

kept  Beauclerc  sane  and  able  to  lead  his  life;  but 
Beauclerc  did  not  know  it. 

He  paced  up  and  down  close  to  the  water's  edge; 
lines  in  praise  of  Pamela  chasing  each  other  through 
his  brain,  mingled  with  contemptuous  remembrance 
of  Charteris'  chatter. 

Harlowe  walked  farther  and  farther  away  from 
his  companion,  his  eyes  riveted  on  Pam's  window, 
where  the  lamp  shone.  He  even  fancied  he  beheld 
her  figure,  softly  clad  in  clinging  white,  gleaming  in 
a  slip  of  the  moonshine,  for  now  the  cloud  had  passed, 
and  already  in  the  East  was  rosy  preparation  for 
the  marriage  of  Dawn  and  Night.  Soon  his  steps 
led  him  to  that  end  of  the  Sweet- Acre  which  bordered 
the  Thames.  It  was  the  work  of  but  a  moment  to 
vault  the  wall  and  gain  the  narrow  path,  his  eyes  still 
upon  her  casement. 

Suddenly  the  lamp  went  out.  The  square  of  case- 
ment which  had  held  his  eyes  was  blank,  and  all 
was  silence.  Presently  this  was  broken  by  the  slow 
turning  of  a  key.  The  Duke  stood  still,  his  hand 
upon  his  hilt,  lest  this  unlocking  should  be  a  threat  of 
ill  from  without.  Soon  he  saw  it  was  not.  The  near 
door  opened  and  a  woman's  figure  emerged.  By  the 
light  of  the  large  moon,  and  the  hint  of  the  day  to 


172  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

come,  he  saw  her  well,  except  her  face,  a  serving 
wench,  doubtless,  clad  in  blue  linsey,  with  cloak  and 
hood  close  drawn,  footsteps  cautious,  head  once  turned 
backward,  fearing  detection,  as  his  Grace's  heel 
ground  upon  a  pebble.  Then  on  she  sped  across  the 
breadth  of  the  Sweet-Acre  to  Monsieur  Gimbart's 
corner,  Harlowe  after  her  merely  for  youth  and  high 
spirits,  and  that  inborn  thirst  for  the  chase  which 
animates  some  men,  even  when  they  know  not  the 
nature  of  the  game,  and  would  not  crave  it  if  they 
did. 

But  the  girl  in  the  linsey  frock  outstripped  the 
Duke,  and  by  the  time  he  reached  the  Square  all  he 
caught  was  a  glimpse  of  her  turning  down  toward  the 
city. 

He  laughed  as  he  paused,  breathless,  at  his  own 
folly;  then  set  out  at  a  swinging  pace  back  to  the 
river  to  seek  Beauclerc,  and,  not  finding  him,  thence 
to  his  own  house  in  St.  James'. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

ALL  IN  A  CARRIER'S  CART  WENT  SHE 

WHEN    Pam   had  reached  the   house   in 
Gooseberry  Lane  after  the  theatre  that 
night,  she  sent  Jess  off  to  her  slumbers, 
latched  her  door,-  and  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  her  bed, 
the  lamplight  revealing  a  very  perturbed  countenance. 
The  splendid  cloak  and  veil,  the  stage  jewels,  the  laces, 
the  posies,  even  that  which  the  Duke  had  sent,  were 
all  tossed  here  and  there  about  her  chamber.     In  her 
hand  she  held  the  deed  to  Harlowe  House,  and  in  her 
heart  the  image  of  the  giver. 

A  thousand  thoughts  flew,  one  after  the  other, 
through  her  head.  Since  Fate  had  once  more  brought 
her  into  contact  with  these  people  who  were  Pelham's 
friends,  why  had  she  not  had  the  courage  to  ask  them 
of  his  whereabouts,  and  so  learn  if  he  were  dead  or 
living?  If  he  were  dead,  then  farewell  forever  to 
even  the  name  of  happiness;  if  he  were  living,  well, 
what  then?  Was  there  not  something  back  yonder, 
swinging  by  the  sea,  that  struck  at  her  heart  and  her 

173 


174  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

hopes,  with  every  wind  that  beat  it  back  and  forth? 
Was  there  not  something  in  the  past  that  forbade  her 
to  think  of  a  future? 

She  nodded  her  head,  and  folded  up  the  deed.  He 
had  told  her  it  was  his  betrothal  gift  to  his  lady ;  he 
had  refused  to  take  "  No  "  from  her  lips ;  he  had 
sworn  she  should  be  his ;  he  had  vowed  he  would  wait 
until  the  world's  end  but  he  would  win  her,  and  a 
hundred  more  foolish  fond  persuasions,  old  as  the 
earth  and  sky,  but  somehow  sweeter,  each  one  thinks, 
than  ever  they  have  been  before. 

She  put  the  deed  in  the  bosom  of  her  smock;  she 
blew  out  the  lamp,  opened  the  casement,  leaned  out 
into  the  damp  air,  her  white  indistinct  figure  shining 
in  the  film  of  moonlight  sliding  down  the  house. 

Then  Pam  breathed  more  freely ;  then  she  felt  her- 
self getting  away  from  it  all,  the  trackings  and  the 
gewgaws,  and  the  tinsel  laughter  and  tears,  and  spites 
and  triumphs,  and  pities  of  her  London  world;  felt 
falling  from  her  the  mask  of  all  she  had  learned,  all 
she'd  done,  felt  once  more  the  anxious  thrilling  hunger 
for  the  good  brown  earth,  the  deep  salt  sea.  In  some 
way  she  was  sure,  once  away  from  London,  she  would 
be  better  able  to  fight  the  bitter  duel  between  her  past 
and  her  future. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  175 

She  drew  in,  with  the  fever  unslaked  in  her  veins, 
yet  now  with  a  definite  purpose  in  her  mind.  She 
relighted  her  lamp,  slipped  off  her  costly  garments 
and  quick  into  an  old  linsey  frock  of  blue,  a  cloak 
and  hood  of  the  same,  rough  shoes,  a  crimson  ker- 
chief about  her  neck,  her  purse  with  a  little  money. 
No  pause,  no  hesitance ;  a  girl's  glance  into  the  mirror 
to  note  how  now  she  was  once  again  the  old  Pam  of  the 
boats  and  the  tides  and  the  isles;  then  a  puff  at  the 
wick,  another  glance  out  of  the  window,  and  then  she 
was  off  and  away.  She  sped  noiseless,  speed-shod, 
through  the  garden,  then  fleet  as  a  hunted  fawn  up 
and  past  Monsieur  Gimbart's  corner  into  the  Square. 
And  so  she  came  to  the  Cat  and  Fiddle,  there  to  take 
seat  in  a  carrier's  cart  starting  at  sun-up  for  the 
village  of  Cleeve.  Pam  knew  it  well.  In  the  old  days 
she  had  sometimes  put  in  there  with  her  people,  and 
stopped  ashore  for  a  week  or  less,  as  tide  and  fortune 
directed.  She  would  go  there  now,  where  no  one  knew 
of  her  changed  conditions,  where  she  could  be  alone. 
Beyond  this  she  had  no  plan.  To  the  elementary  soul 
this  absence  of  scheme  is  possible,  and  Pam,  though 
she  was  an  actress,  was  still  at  one  in  many  senses 
with  the  earth  of  which  she  was  made. 

As    she  jumped  into   the   carrier's   cart,   a  man 


176  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

glanced  at  her  with  curious  eyes.  Not  catching  sight 
of  her  countenance,  he  settled  back  disappointed  in 
his  chair,  and  while  he  watched  her  tresses  streaking 
behind  her  in  the  turmoil  of  the  wind,  the  poet  plied 
his  pencil  on  the  edge  of  his  broad-sheets,  concocting 
an  ode  to  the  very  locks  on  which  his  eager  eyes  were 
fixed. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

'WHERE'S  PAMELA?" 


J*""       "^  HE  afternoon  of  the  day  following  the  en- 
counter  between    the  gallant    "  Captain 
Mirabeau  "  and  Lady  Betty  Wyndham, 
found  her  ladyship  dawdling  over  her  chocolate  and 
almond  cakes  with  Kitty  and  Lady  Trevor,  in  close 
confab  over  the  events  of  the  night  before,  not  the 
least  of  which,  one  may  be  sure,  was  the  matter  of  the 
deed  to  Harlowe  House. 

"  Of  a  certainty,"  exclaimed  Betty,  "  none  but  a 
jade  of  the  lowest  quality  would  accept  such  a  gift 
from  any  gentleman  !  " 

"  Tush,  Betty,"  spoke  her  aunt.  "  You  do  mis- 
take and  show  your  lack  of  knowledge  of  the  ton  and 
their  ways !  'Tis  of  a  piece  quite  with  customs  now- 
a-days  that  any  gallant  may  thus  express  his  admira- 
tion for  art  by  bestowing  on  any  lady  of  the  theatre 
a  mansion  or  a  park,  and  she  none  the  worse,  but  only 
the  richer." 

177 


178  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Mayhap  'tis  so,  aunt !  perchance  I  know  not  town 
fashions  at  all !  But  I  do  know  that  when  this  mum- 
mer comes  to  Harlowe  House,  out  I  pack,  and  I  should 
hope  all  persons  of  gentle  birth  and  breeding  would 
follow  me,  if  my  elders  do  not  set  me  the  example  by 
going  now !  '*  The  girl  set  down  her  cup  and  saucer 
with  a  crash  that  made  the  tray  rattle  and  her  aunt 
and  cousin  jump. 

Up  spoke  Kitty  ardently :  "  That  will  I  not,  either 
lead  or  follow.  When  Mistress  Congreve  comes  to 
take  possession  of  her  own,  Kitty  Trevor  stops  as 
long  as  she's  made  welcome,  and  Sir  Toby's  invited, 
too!" 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  miss ! "  cries  Lady  Trevor, 
"  and  you  not  yet  eighteen.  I  swear  you  shall  follow 
in  our  lead !  " 

"  Then  you,  at  least,  aunt,  do  not  purpose  remain- 
ing at  Harlowe? "  asked  Betty,  without  circumlo- 
cution. 

"  Sweet  niece,"  answered  Lady  Trevor,  "  this  must 
be  as  your  Uncle  Thomas  says." 

"  Lud !  Madam !  "  cried  Betty,  rising  and  kicking 
the  hassock  out  of  her  path  across  the  room.  "  Since 
when  does  your  ladyship  '  obey  "  your  lord  and  mas- 
ter? " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  179 

"  Betty,  a  truce  to  your  impertinence ! "  answered 
the  older  woman.  "  'Tis  all  very  well  for  you,  with 
forty  thousand  pounds  at  your  back,  to  swear  you'll 
quit  Harlowe — yet,  I  doubt  if  you  can  find  refuge 
and  a  willing  chaperon  to  your  flyaway  tempers — 
and  your  guardian's  consent,"  she  added  blandly, 
"  anywhere  else." 

"  But,  of  a  truth,  aunt,  you'll  not  stop?  " 

"  'Tis  like  we  shall  remain,  Betty,  since  your  guar- 
dian and  uncle's  over  his  ears  in  debts ;  in  arrears 
three  years  for  his  rentals  and  nowhere  else  to  go. 
Now,  that  you've  got  the  whole  truth,  I  trust  you  are 
satisfied.  After  the  holidays,  when  Sir  Thomas  may 
have  had  time  to  adjust  his  affairs  with  the  money 
lenders,  we  may  settle  ourselves  in  town,  but  for  the 
present  we  shall  stop  at  Harlowe  House,  whither  we 
return  this  day." 

"  Zounds !  "  cried  Betty  scornfully,  "  that  I  should 
have  to  be  beholden  to  this  player  for  my  shelter !  that 
I  should  have  to  remain  over  Christmas  in  her  house ! 
I'd  sooner  kill  myself  than  do  it ! " 

"  Go  hang  then,  coz,"  cried  Kitty.  "  But  it  might 
be  well  to  pause  ere  you  buy  the  rope!  Listen,  the 
Duke  will  Be  at  Harlowe  House  for  the  holidays,  and 
can  you  not  invite  whom  you  will  for  guest?  Mistress 


180  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Congreve  bade  us  each  and  all.  I  have  asked  Sir  Toby 
already,  and  you  may  doubtless  ask  Lord  Charteris 
and  any  other  gentleman  you  fancy.  I'll  wager  you 
all  my  quarter's  pin-money  to  nothing,"  added  Miss 
Slyboots,  laughing,  "  that  as  Mistress  Congreve's  to 
be  there,  both  Duke  and  Earl  will  come !  " 

"  Take  that,  you  imp !  "  shrieked  Lady  Betty,  aim- 
ing a  costly  cup  at  her  cousin's  head.  "  Ugh !  could  I 
tear  you  to  pieces,  Kitty,  'twould  suit  my  humour 
well!" 

"  Nay,"  laughed  Kitty,  dodging  the  china,  "  if 
you  did  that,  sweet  coz,  there'd  be  a  funeral  and  no 
Christmas  party  at  Harlowe !  "  And  off  she  danced, 
to  ogle  Sir  Toby  at  the  drawing-room  window,  know- 
ing her  mother  would  be  well  occupied  for  a  half-hour 
at  least  with  her  cousin. 

Lady  Trevor  sighed  as  she  picked  up  the  bits  of 
broken  Sevres. 

"  'Twere  as  well  concede  the  facts,  niece,"  said  she, 
Kitty  once  out  of  hearing.  "  The  child  has  the  right 
of  it.  All  the  town's  alive  with  the  matter  of  Har- 
lowe and  Mistress  Congreve.  She  has  but  to  nod,  and 
he  is  ready  to  lay  his  ducal  coronet  at  her  feet ! " 

"  Harlowe !  "  replied  the  younger.  "  I'd  spurn 
him  if " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  181 

"  You  had  a  chance !  "  obligingly  finished  the  aunt. 

"  Bah,  madam,  a  truce !  I  swore  to  you  cnce  'twas 
Pelham  I  wanted,  and  'twas  a  true  oath." 

"  Aye,  I  know  it ;  therefore,  if  you're  a  sensible 
young  lady,  guided  by  prudence  and  discretion,  you'll 
call  in  your  red  flag  of  temper,  hang  out  the  white 
one,  and  make  up  your  mind  for  Harlowe  House  at 
Christmas-tide;  for  thither,  if  you  invite  not  Char- 
teris,  be  sure  the  player  will.  Lady  Hammond  told 
me  he  looks  at  no  one  else !  " 

"  Mr.  Beauclerc  swore  that  the  two  had  never  met," 
said  Betty,  dismally  enough,  drumming  on  the  pane, 
and  taking  no  heed  of  Toby  kissing  his  fat  fingers  to 
her  cousin  Kitty  at  the  casement  below. 

"  True ;  but  you  know  Charteris  as  well  as  I  do. 
'Twill  not  be  long  ere  he  becomes  intimate  with  any 
lady  that  hath  entrapped  his  fancy  to  the  extent  this 
one,  report  says,  hath !  " 

"  Din  it  not  into  my  ears,"  cried  Betty,  distracted. 
"  So  far  as  I  can  see,  this  actress-woman,  with  her 
wiles,  is  like  to  rob  me  and  all  the  other  ladies  in  Lon- 
don of  all  our  gallants.  I  wish  she  were  at  the  bottom 
of  the  Channel,  or  somewhere  that  " — (here  the  page- 
boy ushered  in  Surrey  Beauclerc,  but  Betty's  con- 
temptuous eloquence  flowed  on  to  the  end)  "  that  no 


182  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

one  could  find  her!  This  saucy  baggage  of  a  Con- 
greve ! " 

"  Ladies,"  said  the  hunchback,  his  hat  under  his 
arm,  and  a  fresh  print  in  his  hand,  bowing  defer- 
entially, "  your  servant." 

"  Mr.  Beauclerc,  sir,"  Lady  Trevor  answered  with 
a  sweep  of  her  fan,  ordering  the  page  to  fetch  another 
plate  of  wafers  and  fill  the  cream  jug. 

"  Ha,  Mr.  Beauclerc ! "  cried  Betty,  "  I  hope,  sir, 
you  bring  news !  news !  news  of  any  colour  to  drive 
away  my  present  indisposition.  Prithee,"  pointing  to 
the  paper  in  Beauclerc's  hand,  "  what's  there  abroad 
of  interest?  " 

"  Well,"  returned  he  doubtfully,  as  he  recalled  her 
speech  at  his  entrance,  "  the  town's  agog  from  one  end 
to  the  other  with  but  one  matter,  fair  lady." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  they  both  gasped  eagerly.  "  Has 
his  Majesty  quarrelled  afresh  with  the  Queen?  Hath 
the  Prince  once  more  derided  his  royal  father?  Who 
hath  sought  a  divorce?  or  who  eloped  with  whose  wife 
— husband — pray,  sir,  your  news  ?  " 

"  Of  a  truth,"  answered  Beauclerc,  "  'tis  none  of 
these,  sweet  ladies,  but  Heathcote,  the  manager  of  the 
theatre,  the  whole  Court  and  quality,  all  the  bucks 
and  gallants,  put  into  an  extreme  disorder  since 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  183 

Covent  Garden  was  closed  last  night,  and  is  like  to  re- 
main so  to-night." 

"  Is  Congreve  dead?  "  cried  Lady  Betty,  her  eyes 
sparkling  with  hope. 

"  God  forbid!  "  ejaculated  the  poet  earnestly,  man 
of  the  world  though  he  was,  and  most  unlikely  to 
hang  his  heart-thoughts  upon  his  sleeve:  the  less  so 
that  a  hope  of  learning  something  of  Pamela's  where- 
abouts had  been  the  sole  cause  of  his  morning  call 
upon  Lady  Trevor  and  her  niece. 

"  God  forbid !  I  supposed,"  flicking  the  snuff 
from  his  breeches  as  he  took  a  seemingly  careless 
pinch,  "  mayhap  your  ladyship  could  impart  some 
information  regarding  Mistress  Congreve?  Hath 
she,  peradventure,  to  your  knowledge  gone  down  to 
Harlowe?  " 

"  We  know  naught,  Mr.  Beauclerc,  but  I  am 
positive  she's  not  there,  since  my  man  Jerry  is  but 
newly  come  up  to  fetch  us  the  week's  butter  and 
eggs,  and  he  would  have  known  it  had  a  stranger 
arrived." 

"  Ah,  precisely  so,"  replied  the  poet. 

"  We're  returning  to  the  country  to-morrow," 
added  Lady  Trevor  firmly,  her  eye  on  Betty. 

"  Yes,"  confirmed  the  niece,  "  but  tell  me,  do,  I 


184  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

pray,  sir,  how  do  you  know  that  the  Congreve's  really 
disappeared?  " 

"  She's  not  at  home  at  Sweet- Acre  House,  not  at 
the  theatre,  nor  does  anyone  know  of  her  whereabouts. 
Mr.  Heathcote's  almost  off  his  head  and  going  down 
post-haste  to  Bath  in  quest  of  the  Bicknell,  that  he 
may  at  least  reopen  his  doors  to-morrow  night." 

Lady  Betty's  colour  rose  high,  beneath  even  the 
splashes  from  her  rouge-pots. 

"  Mr.  Beauclerc,"  she  asked,  trembling  with  eager- 
ness, and  yet  an  ambiguous  smile  playing  about  her 
lips,  "  hath  any  gentleman  disappeared  also  from  his 
haunts?" 

"  Nay,"  he  returned  quietly,  his  blood  rising  in 
his  face  as  hotly  as  Lady  Betty's.  Then  he  added, 
looking  squarely  in  her  eyes :  "  His  Grace  of  Har- 
lowe,  I  hear,  goes  up  and  down  the  town  well-nigh 
distraught,  seeking  news  of  her ;  and  when  I  saw  Lord 
Charteris  at  the  Bedford  but  now,  he  was  too  deep  in 
both  his  cups  and  his  cards  to  understand  the  news." 

"  Ah,"  said  Betty,  relieved,  and  again  crossing  to 
the  casement;  but  her  mind  was  still  far  away  from 
Sir  Toby  flattening  his  nose  against  the  opposing 
pane  and  kissing  of  his  hand  to  the  lively  and  ad- 
venturous Kitty  below  stairs. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  185 

Presently  Mr.  Beauclerc  took  his  leave;  and  now, 
throwing  to  the  wind  his  mien  of  scant  interest,  he  en- 
tered his  chariot  and  bade  the  man  drive  fast  to 
the  Cat  and  Fiddle.  He  had  suddenly  remembered 
the  carrier's  cart  of  the  early  morning,  the  long 
locks  of  dark  wind-blown  hair,  the  unseen  face, 
and  the  slender  form  in  the  coat  of  Norwich  drug- 
get. 

In  less  than  ten  minutes,  by  the  watch  he  held  in 
his  hand,  he  was  talking  with  mine  host  of  the  Cat 
and  Fiddle,  and  had  purchased  much  more  than  a 
half-crown's  worth  of  information. 

Emerging  from  the  Inn,  he  cried  to  his  coachman, 
"  To  the  Duke  of  Harlowe's  in  St.  James'  Street,  and 
quickly ! " 

Then,  entering  the  vehicle,  he  sank  back  and  closed 
his  eyes  in  deep  and  anxious  thought.  Where  had 
she  gone,  and  why?  Well,  he  would  presently  dis- 
cover that :  surely  before  another  f  our-and-twenty- 
hours. 

Had  someone  gone  to  join  her? 

Was  it  Harlowe,  or  another  unknown  to  him? 

He  had  already  seen  the  Duke,  as  he  told  Lady 
Betty.  In  the  lobby  of  the  theatre,  at  noon,  he  had 
stood  with  Heathcote  and  all  the  company  of  play- 


186  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

ers,  news-gatherers,  wits,  and  scribes  as  they  won- 
dered, surmised,  and  exclaimed. 

Harlowe  had  been  silent,  pacing  up  and  down  the 
corridors,  arms  folded,  brows  knit,  lips  indrawn,  all 
the  ruddy  blood  forsaking  his  face,  leaving  it  pinched 
and  haggard. 

Beauclerc  realised  now  that  Harlowe  had  then  made 
off  on  his  horse,  without  so  much  as  a  nod  to  him  or 
any  other,  not  waiting  for  the  tidings  to  be  brought 
by  Peter  Twiss,  who  had  posted  off,  waddling  to 
Sweet-Acre  House  that  instant,  the  sixth  messenger 
to  go  thither  from  the  theatre. 

He  remembered  Harlowe's  expression:  the  beauty 
of  his  pallid  countenance,  the  expression  that  im- 
parted to  it  an  added  charm — that  greatest  one  in 
women's  eyes ;  that  tells  them  there  is  more  unspoken 
than  was  ever  told  in  words — and  the  hunchback 
gritted  his  teeth  and  clenched  his  long  hands. 

"  Gad ! "  said  he  thoughtfully,  "  a  man's  a  man, 
and  has  his  chance,  albeit  God  hath  given  to  one  all 
his  gifts,  and  to  another  but  the  art  to  versify! 
Must  I  go  to  him  with  all  I've  discovered,  little 
clue  as  it  is  ?  Nay !  if  I  can  find  her  out  and  recover 
her  from  her  disposition  for  secrecy,  I'll  do  it  unaided, 
and,  mayhap,  win  a  smile — a  thought ;  a  little  speech 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  187 

wherein  we  shall  masquerade  as  dear  comrades  to  my 
poor  ears  in  memory  of  that  dear  day  when  none  other 
was  able  to  spy  her  out  save  only  Beauclerc." 

He  pulled  the  string  impatiently. 

"  Home !  "  he  cried.  "  Not  to  the  Duke's  to-day ! " 


CHAPTER  XX 

AT    THE    CAT    AND    FIDDLE 

WHEN   his   Grace  of  Harlowe  jumped 
into  his  saddle  at  the  kennel  before  the 
theatre,  he  guided  his  horse  as  rapidly 
as  he  dared  in  the  narrow  and  crowded  thoroughfare, 
to  that  entrance  to  the  Sweet-Acre  whence  he  had  seen 
a  figure  emerge  and  flit,  shunning  observation,  out 
to  the  Square,  and  then  toward  the  city. 

The  house-door  once  opened  he  questioned  Jess. 
Had  any  of  the  servants,  man  or  woman,  gone  off? 
The  answer,  given  with  many  and  genuine  tears,  was 
no.  He  stood  a  moment  in  moody  silence.  Then  a 
sudden  thought  struck  him. 

"  Hold,  lass !  Which  of  your  mistress'  clothes  are 
missing?  " 

"  None  of  'em,  my  lord,"  she  sobbed. 
"  What !    in    her    nightrail  ?     Distraught,    mad* 
perchance — or  walking  in  her  sleep !    She  may  be  in 
the  river !    God  Almighty !  " 

188 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  189 

His  face  was  lined  and  grey. 

"  None  of  her  duds,  your  Grace,  is  missin'  but  a 
blue  linsey-woolsey  frock  she  wears  in  the  play  of 
«  The  Country  Girl.'  " 

"Ha!" 

"  And  my  Norwich  drugget  cloak " 

"  Go  on !  go  on !  " 

"  And  a  red  kerchief  in  yellow  borders,  your  Grace, 
that  goes  with  the  stage  frock." 

"Clues!  clues!    What  shoes  are  missing?    Any?" 

"  Them  russets  as  goes  with  the  costume." 

"  Where  is  Godfrey  Gimbart?  " 

"  Up  and  off  a-scouring  of  the  bridges,  a'most 
crazed  for  his  mistress,  as  any  one  of  us  all."  Sobs 
choked  her  speech  for  the  moment. 

"  Has  the  house  been  searched?  " 

"  Aye,  from  roof  to  cellar." 

"  Hast  heard  her  hint  at  any  weariness,  or  mind 
for  change  and  rest  ?  " 

"  Nay — but  hark !  Here's  Godfrey  now,  back 
from  his  search." 

"News?" 

"  Nay,  none." 

Harlowe  threw  a  crown  to  Jess,  and,  waving  her 
off,  took  Godfrey  breathlessly  by  the  arm.  "  Up  to 


190  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

my  stables,  and  saddle  the  fleetest  horse  I  have ;  then 
ride  to  every  Inn  in  town  below  Cheapside  where  coach 
or  carrier  comes  and  goes,  and  beg  or  buy  news  as  to 
the  character  and  aspect  of  any  passengers  that  have 
gone  off  since  midnight.  Cover  you  the  district 
within  two  miles  from  here;  I'll  to  further  away. 
Meet  me,  if  you  glean  but  a  hint  of  your  lady,  at — 
er — where  will  you  fetch  up  at  the  last,  eh?  " 

"  At  the  Cat  and  Fiddle,  your  Grace ;  I'll  go  to  the 
Tub  now — a  beastly  hole,  but  the  Almighty  alone 
knows  what  a  lady  will  choose  if  she's  bent  on  giving 
her  friends  the  slip."  Tears  of  despair  stood  in  the 
lad's  eyes. 

"  Waste  not  a  second !  "  cried  his  Grace.  "  The 
Cat  and  Fiddle  be  it,  and  God  grant  it  be  soon ! " 
Harlowe  swung  himself  into  his  saddle  and  made  off, 
while  Godfrey  ran  to  the  mews  back  of  St.  James', 
and  presently  emerged  on  the  back  of  a  finer  horse 
than  ever  he  had  dreamed  of  bestriding. 

So  these  two,  that  pleasant  autumn  morning, 
visited  between  them  every  Inn  in  London — the  man 
drinking  more  mugs  of  ale  than  he  could  carry  to 
cover  his  errand,  the  master  not  halting  for  such 
subterfuge,  but  tossing  his  gold  out  recklessly  and 
learning  not  a  syllable. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  191 

Dozens  of  passengers  had  shaken  the  dust  of  grimy 
London  from  their  shoes  that  blessed  day  in  coaches 
and  carts,  starting  out  as  early  as  three  o'clock,  but 
none  of  these  gave  promise  of  any  lady  clad  as 
Pamela  must  have  been. 

Harlowe  had  got  through  his  list  before  Godfrey, 
and  rode  into  the  yard  of  the  Cat  and  Fiddle  two 
hours  ahead  of  Pamela's  porter,  though  four-and- 
twenty  hours  had  been  spent. 

Here,  when  he  had  almost  lost  heart,  he  was  roused 
by  tidings  of  a  young  carrier  with  a  passenger  in  his 
cart,  from  Cleeve,  and  bound  back  thither  with  a 
load  of  creels  full  of  foul  linen  to  be  washed  there 
and  returned,  his  wife  being  a  laundress  to  the 
quality  and  mistress  of  all  the  arts  of  crimping  and 
fluting. 

"  Gad's  life,  man,"  interrupted  his  Grace.  "  The 
passenger !  the  passenger !  I  care  not  for  crimps  or 
flutes !  Pour  for  the  company — Burgundy,  yes !  and 
tell  me  of  the  passenger !  " 

"  A  young  and  comely  person." 

"  Dark  or  fair?  " 

"  Dark — her  hair  falling,  streaking  in  the  wind 
as  she  went  through  the  yard." 

"  Portmanteaux,  boxes  ?  " 


192          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Nay,  nothing." 

"  Lace  fall?  or  hood?  " 

"  Hood,  aye ;  no  fall,  but  she  held  her  head  close 
within  the  hood  and  not  much  peering.  Not  quality ! 
Oh,  no !  a  cloak  of  Norwich  drugget  and  a  petticoat 
of  blue  linsey-woolsey,  yes — I  think  'twas  blue 
and " 

"What  else?  'fore  Heaven!  What  else?  Aught 
around  her  throat  ?  " 

"  A  kerchief  " — hesitating. 

"Yes?  yes?  its  colour,  man,  its  colour?" 

"  'Twere — aye,  'twere  red  wi'  yellow  borders." 

In  a  moment  Harlowe  was  in  the  saddle.  "  Cleeve, 
you  say?  The  carrier's  name?  Jo  Fogle?  There's 
for  your  trouble !  good-morrow." 

Off  he  dashed,  no  thought  of  tarrying  for  Godfrey, 
who  later  came  galloping  in,  spent  and  wan. 

Away  back  to  the  mews  sped  the  faithful  porter, 
and  on  a  fresh  and  swifter  steed  was  soon  off  eastward 
toward  the  sea. 

It  was  three  o'clock  of  the  second  day  after  Pam's 
disappearance  when  the  Duke  of  Harlowe  left  the 
town. 

By  chance  he  turned  the  corner  by  London  Bridge 
just  as  Beauclerc's  chariot  rumbled  over;  the  dust 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  193 

from  wheels  and  hoofs  mingled  and  stung  the  eyes 
of  both.  The  chariot  had  to  swing  aside  for  the 
horseman,  who  was  not  at  all  disinclined  to  trample 
any  obstacle  in  his  path.  He  gave  the  lash  to  the 
poet's  beasts,  and  as  luck  had  it,  the  tang  of  the 
leather  flicked  the  ears  of  another  pair  of  horses 
which  were  dragging  my  Lord  Charteris  home,  in  the 
arms  of  his  man,  from  a  night  of  it  at  the  Bedford. 
Here  was  as  pretty  a  concurrent  triangle  of  hearts 
as  anyone  could  wish  to  observe. 

Harlowe  took  the  lead  and  pressed  onward  hotly, 
Beauclerc  at  his  heels,  but  falling  into  the  rear  by 
degrees.  Charteris  just  roused  himself  to  ask  the 
cause  of  the  sudden  jolt  and  start. 

"  His  Grace  of  Harlowe,  my  Lord,  and  Mr.  Beau- 
clerc." 

"  Whither  went  they, you  damned varlet, whither?" 

"  Toward  Surrey,  my  lord,  ridin'  an'  drivin'  like 
the  devil!" 

"  Devil  take  'em,  then ! " 

"  Aye,  my  lord." 

"  Fetch  me  up  at  the  first  tavern  we  pass,  you 
scoundrel!  I'm  thirsty.  Egad!  I  lost,  did  I  not? 
How  much,  Pink?  how  much?  I  swear,  'an  you  kept 
not  the  tally,  and  I  too  deep  in  my  cups  to  do  it 


194  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

myself,  you'll  never  get  your  wages,  nor  a  character 
when  I  send  you  off!  Eh,  how  much?  " 

Charteris  rolled  from  side  to  side  of  his  coach,  his 
head  lolling  on  Pink's  shoulder,  the  lace  ruffles  at 
bosom  and  wrists  stained  with  wine  and  snuff ;  his  fine 
eyes  dull,  his  red  full  lips  apart,  his  wig  tumbled 
off  and  hung  up  on  the  window-roller  of  the  coach, 
bobbing  as  the  vehicle  made  its  way  over  the  miserable 
ruts,  puddles,  and  holes  that  stood  for  paved  streets 
in  the  good  old  days  when  George  the  Third  was 
King. 

It  was  indeed  a  sorry  spectacle ;  yet  Charteris  had 
been  much  in  this  condition  now  for  eight-and-forty 
hours;  galloping  into  such  a  pile  of  debts,  by  way 
of  wine  and  cards  in  league,  that  it  was  hard  to  say 
how  or  when  he  would  ever  pay  them. 

Pink  was  his  master's  ally  as  well  as  his  valet.  He 
answered,  with  a  side-glance  at  the  burden  reposing 
on  his  broad  shoulder,  "  Fifteen  hundred  pounds,  my 
lord." 

"  Fifteen  hundred  pounds,  you  infernal  idiot ! " 
cried  Charteris,  rousing  himself  somewhat  out  of  his 
stupor.  "  What  d'ye  mean  ?  You  lie,  you  devil ! 
What  d'ye  suppose  I  keep  you  for?  What  have  I 
taught  you  all  the  tricks  of  the  game  for  if  not  that 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  195 

you  may  ply  'em  when  I'm  drunk,  or  at  least  fetch 
me  off  in  time?  " 

"  Well,  my  lord,"  returned  the  man,  well  used  to 
such  addresses,  "  asking  your  lordship's  pardon  and 
with  submission,  just  when  your  lordship  was  a-whip- 
pin'  out  your  dice-box  with  the  false  bottom  from 
your  stockin'  roll,  I  see  his  Grace  of  Harlowe  comin' 
in,  and  his  eyes  on  your  game  like  a  flash ;  it  couldn't 
be  worked " 

"  The  puppy !  "  interrupts  the  Earl. 

"  It  couldn't  be  worked  that  time,  my  lord, 
although  it  were  a  pity,  for  the  gentlemen  as  you 
were  a-playin'  with  was  all  of  a  muddle  and  in  as 
fine  condition  for  pluckin'  as  your  lordship  could 
desire.  But  I  stopped  your  lordship  quick,  and 
makin'  to  pick  up  summat  as  hadn't  failed,  I  snatched 
the  box  from  you  and  hid  it  in  my  sleeve." 

"  Gad !  Harlowe's  a  sneak,  a  damnable  sneak. 
How  long  did  he  stop  ?  " 

"  But  a  short  while,  my  lord.  He's  a-seekin'  in- 
formation as  to  some  lady  or  wench  escaped  out  of 
town  the  night  before." 

"  Ha !  Women !  the  dog !  He'd  have  had  me 
marry — well,  well,  one  of  'em.  Fifteen  hundred 
pounds !  and  I've  not  fifteen  farthings  to  my  name ! " 


196  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  My  lord,  'twas  luck." 

"  Luck  be  damned !  "  shouted  the  Earl ;  then,  more 
quietly,  sinking  back  in  his  corner,  "  Go  on — what 
more?  " 

"  Your  lordship  took  the  top-peep  as  neat  as  ever 
you  did  when  sober,  and  all  your  lordship's  cards  was 
thumbed.  Gad!  my  lord,  askin'  your  lordship's 
pardon,  I  never  see  you  play  so  well,  but  the  luck 
wasn't  with  you !  " 

"  Fifteen  hundred  pounds !  I'd  h'ke  to  put  you  in 
the  pillory  !  "  . 

Pink  smiled  with  lofty  security.  "  Nay,  my  lord, 
that  would  be  a  bad  place  to  put  me.  I  might  squeal 
to  the  watch,  how  things  went  once  on  a  time  down 
Chilton  ways,  by  the  sea." 

"  Shut  your  mouth,  curse  you ! "  cried  Charteris, 
raising  his  arm  to  strike. 

Pink  caught  it  in  the  air  above  his  head  with  a  fist 
as  strong  as  a  vice.  The  two  men  looked  in  each 
other's  eyes  a  moment — then  the  Earl's  arm  dropped 
listlessly  at  his  side. 

The  valet  laughed  softly.  "  Your  lordship  was 
wantin'  a  drink  of  wine?  "  he  said.  "  Here  be  the 
Cat  and  Fiddle:  a  fine  cellar,  though  not  a  place  of 
much  repute  or  fashion.  Will  your  lordship  alight?" 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  197 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  master.  "  Look  you,  Pink," 
cozening  his  man's  arm  with  trembling  fingers, 
"  lend  me  five  guineas,  like  a  good  fellow.  I'm  un- 
known here,  and  with  a  marked  pack  still  in  my  stock- 
ing roll,  can  I  recoup  our  fortunes  here  in  this  hole 
of  common  folk  ?  " 

Pink  handed  out  the  guineas  and  pulled  the  string. 
The  coach  came  to  a  sudden  halt  before  the  Cat  and 
Fiddle,  and  master  and  man  entered  the  tavern. 

Once  within,  steadied  by  a  cup  of  wine  and  re- 
freshed by  the  bathing  of  his  head  with  a  wet  hand- 
kerchief, his  wig  set  on,  his  ruffles  pinched,  and  his 
cravat  new-tied  by  his  faithful  Pink,  Charteris,  not- 
withstanding his  stains  and  the  dark  circles  about 
his  eyes,  presented  as  reputable  an  appearance  as 
many  another  young  gentleman  of  the  time,  after  a 
night  of  pleasure. 

He  came  out  into  the  room,  and  was  presently  deep 
engaged  in  as  scandalous  a  game  of  loo,  with  as  ras- 
cally and  depraved  a  set  of  men,  and  women  too,  as 
ever  sat  down  with  pasteboards  at  a  table. 

Ribald  jests,  oaths  unspeakable,  stories  unthink- 
able, laughter  echoing  up  and  down  the  street,  strong 
waters  poured  down  throats  that  were  always  thirsty ; 
such  was  the  entertainment.  And  the  Earl  of  Char- 


198  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

teris — the  fop,  the  macaroni,  the  buck — with  the 
bluest  blood  of  England  in  his  veins,  enjoyed  it 
hugely :  Pink  silently  watching  at  his  side. 

Charteris  won  to  the  tune  of  five-and-twenty 
pounds :  a  bagatelle  to  him,  a  fortune  to  his  victims, 
but  nothing  was  said ;  and  putting  out  the  bait  of  the 
loss  of  a  guinea  he  soon  had  them  all  in  the  best  of 
humours. 

"  More  wine,  host !  "  cried  he,  "  more  and  the  best ! 
The  company  here  is  worthy  of  it,  I  swear !  " 

Thus  he  spent  nearly  all  his  winnings  to  put  them 
into  a  condition  that  should  make  them  think  little  of 
their  losses. 

In  an  hour  or  so  Charteris  had  swept  the  green. 
When  there  was  no  more  to  win,  and  his  companions 
were  under  the  table,  he  paid  his  reckoning;  then 
stopped  to  pick  up  a  damp  news-letter  just  thrown 
in  by  the  barmaid.  His  eye  arrested  by  the  first  lines 
he  saw,  he  stopped  suddenly,  sank  into  a  seat,  and 
read: 

"  When  this  sheet  meets  the  eyes  of  our  patrons, 
more  than  eight-and-forty  hours  will  have  passed 
since  the  extraordinary,  unaccountable,  and  most 
mystifying  disappearance  of  Mistress  Pamela  Con- 
greve.  Two  successive  evenings  now  has  Covent 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  199 

Garden  been  closed,  since  Mistress  Bicknell  persist- 
ently refuses  to  return  from  Bath  to  resume  playing. 
Albeit  the  town  and  suburbs  hath  been  scoured,  the 
bell-man  ringing  from  one  end  to  the  other,  the 
Thames  dragged,  every  inn,  tavern,  and  hostelry 
searched,  no  hint  or  clue  to  the  lost  lady  has  been 
gained.  His  Gracious  Majesty  has  been  pleased  to 
send  inquiries  twice  a  day  to  the  playhouse  for 
tidings,  as  well  as  their  Royal  Highnesses  the  Prince 
and  Princess  of  Wales.  It  is  not  to  be  doubted  also 
that  many  gentlemen  of  the  nobility  are  put  into  a 
sore  strait  by  the  distressing  and  inexplicable  occur- 
rence. 'Tis  said  at  the  Clubs  and  chocolate  houses, 
that  his  Grace  of  H  .  .  e  hath  gone  quite  mad  and  is 
secluded  in  his  house  in  St.  James  under  a  proper  re- 
straint " — here  Charteris  smiled — "  that  the  Honour- 
able S .  .  .  y  B .  .  .  c  spends  his  time  driving  from  pillar 
to  post  in  vain  endeavour  to  find  some  trace  of  her 
who  was  alike  the  pride  of  the  theatre  and  the 
inspiration  of  some  of  that  gentleman's  best  verses; 
that  my  Lord  C .  .  .  s  hath  not  been  seen  in  his  accus- 
tomed haunts  since  the  fatal  news  broke  out ;  and  that 
ladies  fair  of  every  grade  and  disposition  are  lament- 
ing one  of  the  most  remarkable  and  unfortunate  oc- 
currences of  modern  times." 


200  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

The  Earl  gritted  his  teeth  together.  "  Gone ! " 
thought  he,  "  with  Harlowe ;  since  Harlowe's  invisible 
and  hath  himself,  doubtless,  given  out  this  silly  tale 
of  madness!  What  to  do?  For,  by  the  Ruler  above 
us,  I'll  have  her  yet,  Harlowe  or  no  Harlowe !  I  have 
it ! "  Charteris  sprang  up,  tossing  the  news-sheet 
from  him,  and  beckoning  to  Pink. 

A  moment  later  he  was  in  his  chariot,  flinging  the 
order  to  the  coachman,  "  To  Cagliostro's  in  the 
Strand.  Fast!" 

And  from  the  Cat  and  Fiddle  they  went  at  a  round 
pace. 

It  was  the  custom  of  those  days  for  all  classes  and 
conditions — learned  scholars,  divines,  scullions,  and 
kings  alike — to  visit  the  fortune-tellers;  and  such 
was  the  faith  pinned  to  them  that  there  was  no  lady 
or  gentleman  of  any  pretensions  to  fashion  but  had 
a  favourite  soothsayer,  and  consulted  him  upon  every 
occasion,  from  a  love  affair  to  the  purchase  of  a  hat 
or  a  stock. 

Charteris,  therefore,  was  no  solecism  when  he 
sought  out  the  renowned  Cagliostro  in  his  "  Temple 
of  Futurity."  He  paid  his  guinea,  and  came  out 
though  none  the  wiser  as  to  Pamela.  He  went  next 
to  all  his  coffee-houses,  with  an  appearance  of  calm- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  201 

ness,  for  he  was  sober  enough  now  he  had  been  struck 
at  his  heart.  He  loved  Pamela  with  all  the  passion 
of  which  he  was  capable,  and  her  vanishing  in  this 
way  from  even  his  sight  but  whetted  his  longing. 

Everywhere  he  heard  only  amplifications  of  that 
which  he  had  read  in  the  public  print  at  the  shabby 
little  Inn  in  Falconer's  Lane. 

Returning  to  his  rooms  near  the  Temple,  he  said 
to  Pink: 

"  Did  not  you  tell  me  that  Harlowe  was  at  the  Bed- 
ford night  before  last,  seeking  tidings  of  some  wench 
that  had  quitted  the  town  secretly  ?  " 

"  Aye,  my  lord,  he  was,"  answered  the  man  with  a 
piercing  glance  at  his  master. 

"  Then,"  returned  the  Earl,  "  Pink,  you  may  re- 
fresh yourself  with  a  holiday.  I'm  going  out  of  town 
for  a  few  days." 

The  man  bowed  obsequiously,  packed  his  lordship's 
clothes,  and  said  nothing. 

Charteris  swore  to  himself  he  would  be  the  first  to 
reach  Pam's  side ;  he  believed  that  he  knew  the  direc- 
tion in  which  she  had  fled — toward  Chilton — most 
likely,  back  Tamworth-way,  or  near  the  place  where 
'he  and  she  had  last  met.  He  was  unaware  whether 
she  thought  him  dead  by  her  own  hand,  or  had  heard 


202  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

of  him  as  living;  possessed  with  the  idea  that  she 
really  loved  him,  he  saw  in  her  flight  a  sure  indication 
that  he  was  still  in  her  mind,  and  that  instinctively 
she  would  resort  to  a  spot  associated  with  his  pres- 
ence. 

So  it  came  about  that  Charteris  took  the  coach  for 
Tamworth  at  the  same  time  that  Harlowe  and  Beau- 
clerc  were  speeding  toward  Cleeve. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

AT    THE    THRESHOLD   OP    ST.    BEES 


H 


IS  Grace  of  Harlowe  went  astray  several 
times  on  the  road  to  the  strange  little 
fishing  hamlet,  but  this  made  less  differ- 
ence to  him  in  the  saddle  than  to  the  poet  in  his 
travelling  chaise.  So  it  fell  out  that  the  Duke  was 
the  first  to  reach  a  level  plateau  looking  out  far  on 
the  sea-line,  and  bringing  the  apology  for  a  road  to 
an  abrupt  end. 

A  shepherd  was  tending  his  flock  on  the  misty 
downs,  and  to  him  the  horseman  said: 

"  Good-morrow,  my  man,  where's  Cleeve?  "  tossing 
pennies  into  the  midst  of  the  old  man's  knitting  with 
an  accurate  aim. 

"  Yonder,  your  worship,"  jerking  a  knotty  thumb 
toward  the  edge  of  what  seemed  like  a  sheer  precipice. 
"  Thank  'ee,"  clutching  at  the  coppers  with  the  greed 
of  unaccustomed  handling. 

Harlowe  surveyed  the  prospect  with  puzzled  eyes,, 
then  put  spur  and  was  off. 

203 


204  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Hold !  hold !  my  lord !  "  screamed  the  aged  shep- 
herd at  the  top  of  his  lungs.  "  No  horse  ever  yet  rid 
into  Cleeve.  Hold !  for  your  lordship's  life !  "  and. 
with  his  knitting-ball  twining  around  his  spindle 
legs,  the  shepherd  hobbled  after  the  traveller,  calling 
as  loudly  as  his  ninety  years  would  permit. 

Harlowe  drew  rein,  turned  in  the  seat,  and  put  his 
hand  to  his  ear.  The  wind  was  now  lashing  the  sea 
into  a  fury  of  yeasty  billows. 

"  Humbly,  my  lord,  'ee  must  alight,  tie  'ee  horse 
here — I'll  mind  it — and  wi'  your  lordship's  legs  go  on 
the  gait  to  Cleeve.  No  far  'n  a  mile  more,  but  a  deevil 
path,  all  pebbles.  There  be's  sledges  and  donkeys  for 
them  as  comes, — the  squire  and  likes  o'  him  and  his 
ladies, — but  rest  'n  us  walks." 

The  Duke  dismounted  the  more  readily  that,  hav- 
ing now  reached  the  edge  of  the  escarpment,  he  could 
look  over  and  perceive  no  other  fashion  of  entering 
the  hamlet,  which  lay  built  on  the  dunes  three  hun- 
dred feet  below  where  he  stood. 

"An  Inn?" 

"  Aye,  my  lord,  the  Puss  and  Mug.  Few  ever 
comes  to  't  save  the  carrier,  and  him  leavin'  his  cart 
yonder — see  't  atop  o'  the  rock  wall? — and  fetchin' 
down  his  goods  on  donkey's  back." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  205 

Harlowe  nodded.  The  word  "  carrier  "  had  sent 
the  blood  swirling  through  his  veins  magnificently. 
With  a  long,  steady  stride  he  pushed  on  down  the 
curious  deep  groove  cut  in  the  rocks,  which  wound  in 
and  out  like  a  fanciful  ribbon,  until,  the  end  nearly 
reached,  he  saw  the  hamlet  of  Cleeve  at  nearer  range. 

A  score  or  two  of  rude  huts  huddling  in  the  midst 
of  the  sandhill,  garden  patches  brilliant  with  the 
greens  that  no  air  like  the  salt  breath  of  the  ocean 
can  produce;  smoke  curling  from  chimneys  above 
thatched  roofs ;  tiny  crawling  paths,  meandering  as 
the  will  of  the  sheep  had  led;  a  child,  brown  as  the 
stubble,  kicking  in  a  mound;  creels,  nets,  fish-poles, 
lines  scattered  everywhere ;  boats  at  anchor,  riding  on 
the  waves,  or  hauled  upon  the  beach. 

"  Where's  the  Inn  ?  "  he  cried  to  the  child. 

Pulling  its  forelock  in  awe  of  the  stranger,  the 
boy  made  answer,  "  Here  he  is,  your  worship,  but 
all's  from  home.  Dame,  host,  and  all  gone  up  coast 
wi'  all  the  men  and  women  folk  to  see  'ee  wreck." 

Harlowe,  throwing  him  some  coins,  stopped  before 
the  Puss  and  Mug.  He  entered  the  yard,  knocked 
perfunctorily,  slipped  the  latch,  went  into  the  tap- 
room, the  parlour,  mounted  the  twisting  staircase, 
called  at  each  door.  No  answer  came;  all  was  still. 


206  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Which  room  was  hers?  For  he  had  no  doubt  that 
here  she  was,  somewhere  about.  He  paused  at  one  of 
the  little  doors  and  put  his  ear  to  the  panel  to  catch, 
if  might  be,  the  rise  and  fall  of  her  breathing. 

No,  not  a  pulse  or  sigh,  nor  laughter  nor  sob. 

The  urchin  had  been  correct — the  inn  was  empty ! 

Harlowe  came  down  to  find  the  child  open-mouthed 
on  the  step,  gazing  at  his  money. 

"  Who  else  went  to  see  the  wreck  ?  " 

"  All  Cleeve,  savin'  me  an'  the  shepherd  up  aloft 
wi'  sheep ! " 

"  Was  there  a  stranger — a  lady  " — Harlowe  hesi- 
tated a  second  for  his  description,  "  living  at  the 
Inn?  Did  she  go,  too?  " 

The  boy  shook  his  head  and  regarded  the  strange 
gentleman  with  dull  saucer-eyes ;  nor  could  any  fur- 
ther word  be  wrenched  from  him.  Truly,  there  was 
no  one  else  in  Cleeve  but  this  child,  and  he,  it  seemed, 
was  more  than  half  an  idiot. 

All  the  little  toy-houses  empty ;  all  the  miniature  gar- 
dens vacant ;  all  the  tortuous  paths  forsaken.  Above, 
on  the  cliff,  one  could  hear  the  tinkle  of  the  sheep- 
bells  and  the  bleat  of  the  lambs ;  here  only  the  half- 
witted child  and  Harlowe  stood  staring  at  each  other. 

Presently  the  boy  shrieked  with  mindless  laughter, 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  207 

and  went  tumbling  down  to  the  beach,  where  he  stood 
on  his  tow-head  and  threw  all  his  pence  into  the  angry 
lashing  waves. 

The  Duke  had  a  mind  to  swing  out  for  the  wreck. 
It  was  not  visible,  but  he  could  try  first  up  the  coast 
and  then  down.  A  moment  later  he  decided  against 
this  plan.  If  Pam  were  here,  he  did  not  wish  to  sur- 
prise her  and  come  upon  her  suddenly  in  the  midst  of 
a  company  of  louts.  He  sat  down  on  the  bench  in 
the  yard,  a  thousand  thoughts  crossing  each  other  in 
his  brain. 

The  perturbation  and  suspense  of  it  all  now  seemed 
to  vanish.  He  felt  in  some  way  assured  that  Pamela 
was  not  far  off.  He  had  not  touched  mattress  or  pil- 
low for  the  space  of  three  days  and  nights;  his  eye- 
lids drooped.  Yet  it  was  not  slumber,  but  a  curious 
reverie  wherein  this  man,  always  master  of  himself, 
gave  rein  to  the  illimitable  fancies  in  which  repressed 
natures  at  times  indulge. 

In  imagination  he  held  Pamela  m  his  arms — and 
she  was  willing,  nay,  coaxed  her  way  nearer  to  his 
breast.  He  felt  her  sweet  breath  warm  upon  his 
throat  and  cheek,  her  soft  arms  clasped  about  his 
shoulder,  her  lips  parting  to  whisper  to  him  the 
most  dear  of  all  a  maid's  confessions. 


208  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

She  would  promise  to  be  his ;  to  quit  the  stage  for- 
ever for  his  sake;  to  be  the  lady  of  his  home  and 
hearth ;  to  come  to  him,  away  from  every  memory  of 
the  time  when  throngs  could  gaze  upon  her  for  pay- 
ment, to  come  into  tHat  safe,  best  shelter  that  a  man 
can  give,  a  woman  take,  this  side  of  heaven.  Aye, 
she  would  promise  all  of  this,  he  knew  it.  To  be  his 
"  to  have  and  to  hold."  The  Duke  was  not  too  much 
at  his  prayer-book,  but  ever  since  he  had  met  Pamela 
Congreve  he  had  been  reading  the  marriage  ceremony, 
and,  to  his  way  of  thinking,  nothing  had  ever  yet  so 
expressed  his  own  particular  creed. 

To  him  the  knowledge  that  the  woman  he  loved  was 
earning  money  was  so  repellent  that  often  he  had  been 
on  the  point  of  wishing  that  the  theatre  would  burn 
down.  It  was  for  a  man,  he  argued,  to  protect  and 
cherish,  to  endow  and  provide  for  her  in  every  way; 
and  had  it  been  necessary,  he  would  have  set  himself 
to  hew  wood  or  stone  and  draw  water  rather  than  that 
she  should  work,  even  in  such  a  fashion  as  the  stage 
afforded.  Would  he  have  her  "  obey  "  him  ?  Aye,  by 
the  Lord!  would  he,  and  knew  full  well  in  his  heart 
that  she  he  loved  would  rather  obey  him  than  com- 
mand an  army  of  other  men. 

While  Harlowe  dreamed  on,  the  storm  was  creeping 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  209 

closer  up  the  coast.  A  mile  to  the  south  it  had  already 
broken  landward,  bearing  on  its  breast  the  wreck  the 
idiot  boy  had  spoken  of.  The  wind  was  nearing 
Cleeve,  and  by  the  cry  of  the  gulls  and  the  moan  of 
the  waters  it  would  not  be  long  before  the  hamlet  was 
awhirl  with  the  tempest  that  lurked  in  those  two  low- 
hanging  cloudy  threats  chasing  one  another  far  aloft. 

Presently  he  heard  the  child's  shriek,  and  looked 
up.  The  weird  little  figure  stood  on  an  upturned 
buoy  and  pointed  at  the  sky,  where  the  splendid 
masses  of  the  clouds  were  at  war  with  the  keen,  beat- 
ing, swaggering,  royal  wind.  The  urchin  shouted 
and  laughed  with  glee ;  he  was  not  afraid  His  feeble 
pipe  of  mirth  struck  a  curious  note  against  the  thun- 
dering pulse  of  the  invading  tempest,  and  hark !  into 
the  midst  of  these  clanged  the  jubilant,  mellow  music 
of  a  bell.  The  Duke  started  to  his  feet  and  turned 
in  the  direction  toward  which  the  gleeful  child 
pointed.  He  saw  there  the  little  church  of  St.  Bees, 
and  the  bell  swinging  in  the  beautiful  open  tower. 

It  was  but  a  stone's-throw,  and  he  got  up  and 
went  there. 

The  shepherd  was  pulling  at  the  rope  as  though  his 
life  depended  upon  it,  His  hands,  though  so  old,  still 
cunning  at  the  lift  and  slip. 


210  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"What  now?  You,  my  man,  here?"  said  the 
Duke. 

"  Aye,  your  worship,  he's  bell-ringer,  town-crier, 
shepherd,  sexton,  undertaker,  and  tax-gatherer  here 
in  Cleeve  now  these  seventy  years.  Felt  storm  a-risin' 
and  came  back;  climbed  tower,  and  seen  't  a-crawlin' 
'long  from  southward.  When  the  wind's  aiming 
Cleeve-ways  and  the  folks  off,  bell  must  ring,  or  all 
o'  Cleeve's  go  surely  out  to  sea.  Doors  must  shut 
and  windies,  and  chimbleys  be  covered,  and  beasts 
tethered  in,  and  people  got  home.  It's  a-comin', 
sure." 

Clang!  clang!  went  the  tongue  of  the  bell  in  its 
full  bronze  throat. 

Boom !  boom !  went  the  waves,  beating  and  striking 
at  the  shore. 

And  the  hurricane  came  whirring  and  thundering 
and  crashing  and  shouting  up  from  the  south  into 
the  midst  of  the  hamlet  of  Cleeve. 

"  Better  'ee  get  inside  o'  doors,  my  lord ! "  called 
the  old  shepherd,  jerking  his  white  head  toward  the 
church,  for  the  bell-tower  was  of  two  centuries  be- 
fore, and  stood  outside  the  edifice. 

Harlowe,  who  had  been  looking,  his  eyes  shaded 
with  his  hand,  as  far  off  as  he  could  see,  catching,  he 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  211 

thought,  a  glimpse  of  a  ship-end  being  bullied  and 
teased  by  the  great  boil  of  the  waters,  now  turned 
away,  and,  in  his  fixed  reliance  that,  once  the  villagers 
returned,  he  should  find,  or,  at  the  least,  hear  tidings 
of  Pamela,  stepped  quickly  out  of  the  belfry  into 
the  yard  and  across,  against  the  blast,  to  the  porch. 

A  man  stood  there,  who  had  arrived  before  him 
by  only  a  few  moments.  This  was  the  poet. 

His  long,  gaunt  hand  was  on  the  latch;  a  second 
later  he  had  pushed  the  door  ajar,  and  was  looking  in. 
Harlowe  followed  his  eyes.  A  great  flush  of  blood 
mounted  to  the  cheeks  of  both  the  men,  in  joyful 
triumph.  Before  the  small  altar,  her  head  bowed  upon 
her  hands  clasped  upon  the  rail,  they  saw  Pamela. 

Beauclerc  turned  sharply  as  he  felt  the  other's 
presence;  His  smile  did  not  die,  but  deepened.  Had 
not  he  found  her  first?  Harlowe's  grip  upon  the  lin- 
tel tightened;  he  gasped,  stood  still,  wished  to  God 
they  had  not  so  encountered. 

Beauclerc,  a  foot's  length  nearer  to  her,  took  his 
fingers  from  the  latch,  looked  at  her  a  moment,  then 
up  into  the  Duke's  radiant  and  beautiful  face. 

Sighing,  the  hunchback  turned  on  his  heel,  and, 
without  a  word,  went  away  from  Cleeve  back  to 
London. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

THE    WRECK    OF    THE    PORTAFERRY    FRIGATE 

WHEN  Pamela  got  into  the  carrier's  cart 
at  the  Cat  and  Fiddle,  she  had  no  plan 
beyond  the  infinite  desire  to  get  away 
from  the  whole  of  her  presen  l  environment,  and  back 
to  a  nearer  touch  with  Nature. 

When  she  reached  Cleeve,  and  even  before  it,  as 
she  drew  her  charioteer  into  conversation,  she  learned 
that  almost  all  the  people  she  had  known  there  in  her 
childhood  were  either  dead  or  gone  to  the  colonies 
or  the  wars.  She  had  been  told  by  the  carrier  that 
he  was  the  father  of  six,  the  youngest  a  simple  (i.  e., 
foolish)  lad  of  six;  that  his  wife  was  a  Scotswoman, 
and  would  gladly  give  her  lodging  and  something  to 
eat,  if  she  would  help  with  crimping  and  fluting  the 
linen  and  fine  laces  of  the  quality  that  he  fetched 
down  from  town  every  fortnight ;  and  so  on  until  they 
reached  the  place  where  the  old  shepherd  sat  cross- 
legged  on  a  hillock,  knitting  his  winter  stockings. 

212 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  213 

Pam  ran  swiftly  down  the  pathway  and  into  the 
village  of  Cleeve;  soon  made  friends  with  the  Scots- 
woman and  her  half-dozen  of  bairns ;  soonest  of 
all,  won  to  herself  the  love  of  the  simple  lad,  who 
clung  to  her  apron  strings  ano!  cried  when  she  was 
out  of  his  sight.  The  carrier's  wife,  being  much  bur- 
dened with  work,  was  glad  to  have  assistance,  even  at 
the  expense  of  another  mouth  to  feed.  She  asked 
no  questions,  but  took  Pamela  at  her  face  value,  and 
was  glad  of  her  apt  hands  and  of  her  idiot  lad's  devo- 
tion to  his  new  friend. 

Pamela,  on  her  side,  hugged  to  her  soul  the  splendid 
long  reaches  of  the  dunes,  the  far-stretching  brown 
meadows,  the  exhilaration  of  all  of  which  she  had 
been  so  long  deprived.  She  put  out  of  her  mind  the 
playhouse  and  all  it  contained ;  the  music  and  mirth ; 
the  glitter  and  dazzle;  the  applause  and  flatteries; 
the  bickerings  and  backbitings;  the  whole  curious 
compound  of  the  town  life,  and,  caring  nothing  for 
the  disturbance  her  flight  must  occasion,  she  revelled 
in  a  return  to  the  haunts  she  had  known  of  old. 

It  fell  in  with  her  mood  to  draw  the  water  and  fetch 
the  peat;  stir  the  fire  and  lay  the  coarse  cloth;  cut 
the  flowers  for  market  and  dig  the  carrots  and  leeks 
for  dinner ;  tidy  the  living-room,  and  hold  the  simple 


214  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

child  on  her  lap,  sing  him  to  sleep,  or  waken  him  in 
the  morning  and  give  him  a  dip  in  the  water.  To  ig- 
nore all  the  fine  lady's  ways  she  had  learned  in  Lon- 
don, and  leave  her  long  locks  hanging  down  her  back, 
half  unbraided ;  to  sit  for  hours  gazing  out  to  the  line 
of  the  horizon  at  twilight,  to  wonder  and  to  think. 

Of  what?  Of  what  did  Pamela  think  these  two 
days  and  nights  after  she  left  Sweet-Acre  House? 

Pam,  who  had  laughed,  coquetted,  trifled,  and 
mocked  at  Love  for  these  many  weeks,  now  found  her- 
self confronted  with  his  profounder  aspect.  Some- 
thing told  her  that  if  she  had  lingered  longer  near 
the  Duke  of  Harlowe,  she  must  have  listened  and  said 
yes  to  all  his  pleading.  Hitherto,  with  the  light  yet 
firm  touch  that  some  women  have,  she  had  kept  him 
from  being  too  serious.  In  his  most  passionate  and 
importunate  moments,  when  he  beheld  that  radiant, 
bantering  face  looking  up  at  him  with  quizzical  eyes, 
he  had  been  forced  to  cool  his  ardour,  and  give  her 
raillery  for  raillery,  or,  in  any  event,  try  to  meet  her 
mood  with  something  else  than  an  outpouring  of  his 
adoration. 

But  the  night  that  sHe  found  the  deed  to  Har- 
lowe House  among  his  flowers,  Pamela  learned  that 
she  could  play  a  game  at  hearts  no  more — that  when 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  215 

this  man  knocked,  she  must  open.  And  to  open  was 
just  what  she  could  not  do.  Therefore,  to  the  winds 
with  theatres,  managers,  public,  friends,  foes,  com- 
rades; up  and  away  to  some  place  where  they  could 
not  follow !  where,  alone,  she  could  sit  and  reckon  up 
the  past  with  her  soul,  and  renounce  that  which  she 
cared  for  most  of  all. 

The  only  flaw  in  Pamela's  plan  was  this,  that  she 
had  counted  without  the  man.  Leaving  him  in  town, 
she  had  forgotten  that  he  had  a  will  and  would  find  a 
way  to  match  it. 

The  morning  the  storm  broke  northward,  all  Cleeve, 
except  the  simple  lad,  went  hurrying  up  the  coast  to 
meet  the  wreck,  arid  save  life  if  might  be,  or  to  make 
their  profit  of  whatever  goods,  casks,  jewels,  and  the 
like  were  thrown  upon  the  sands,  Pam  stayed  behind. 
She  said  she  would  mind  the  Scotswoman's  youngest 
bairn,  and  therefore  set  him,  after  his  porridge  bowl 
was  emptied,  to  playing  in  the  sands  and  sticking  a 
mound  full  with  faded  posies.  Then  she  fetched  the 
crimping-iron  out  into  the  little  garden  and  fell  to 
work  on  the  fine  ladies'  laces,  glancing  up  now  and 
then  to  where  the  child  was  dancing  and  singing, 
all  false  notes,  but  happy  ones,  before  the  Inn 
door. 


216  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Suddenly  something  pulled  sharply  at  her  heart- 
strings and  made  them  quiver.  Her  hand  dropped 
the  iron,  and  she  walked  out  of  the  garden  between 
the  fuchsias  and  the  red  geraniums  that  nodded  all 
around  her  in  the  wind.  Her  face  was  toward 
London;  someone  that  way  was  compelling  her  to 
come  to  him,  begging  and  beseeching  her  to  return  to 
him,  for  him;  and,  as  in  a  dream,  her  feet  followed 
the  call,  obeyed  the  pull  at  the  strings  of  her  heart. 
Forgetting  the  simple  child,  she  was  walking  up  and 
out  of  Cleeve,  when  suddenly  she  paused  before  the 
portal  of  St.  Bees,  remembered  her  mother,  and  smiled 
and  went  into  the  church. 

"  La,  la,  God  A'mighty ! "  thought  the  young 
creature  to  herself,  as  she  stood  looking  at  the  high- 
backed  oak  pew-tops,  at  the  rich  colouring  of  the 
windows,  at  the  chancel  screen,  all  carved  with  birds 
and  fishes,  brought  out  of  Flanders  three  centuries 
before ;  at  the  altar  and  the  picture  over  it,  of  Mary 
of  Magdala  and  the  Compassionate  One  outstretching 
his  divine  hands  above  her  head. 

Pam  crept  up  to  the  rail,  and  knelt  down  on  the 
step;  and  then  and  there  her  fight  was  fought,  her 
struggle  with  herself  proceeded. 

Up  from  its  hiding  place  came  her  past ;  in  its  wake 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  217 

the  thousand  things  she  had  almost  forgotten  in  the 
two  years  of  London  life.  Up  came  gibing  at  her 
from  Chilton-side  a  gibbet,  and  the  face  of  a  man 
once  dear.  Then  came  the  day  when  the  coach  was 
spilled  at  Tamworth,  the  day  Pelham — here  Pam's 
head  sank  down  upon  the  rail,  and  her  body  shook, 
and  her  sobs  rent  her  fiercely. 

She  said  aloud,  yet  softly :  "  Mother,  be  'ee  nigh 
me,  as  I  know  'ee  were  that  day  I  lay  in  the  corn- 
furrows  Tamworth  way  ?  Are  'ee  fightin'  and  prayin' 
with  the  Lord  A'mighty  for  me?  Are  'ee,  mother, 
an'  is't  'ee  a-counsellin'  me,  an'  sayin'  I  must  give 
him  up?  Aye,  I  knows  it;  Pam  knows  it.  She  ain't 
for  the  likes  o'  him,  never  nohow !  La !  la !  "  She 
shivered,  and  her  teeth  closed  cruelly  over  her  red 
under  lip.  "  I  love  him  so,  mother,  I  do  !  But  I  loves 
him  so  I  can  give  him  up."  Her  voice  was  steady, 
and  the  heroic  blood  that  was  in  her  veins  pulsed  with 
a  new  resolve  to  keep  her  vow,  because  she  loved  the 
man  better  than  she  did  herself. 

As  she  knelt  there  her  purpose  became  clearer.  It 
was  to  stay  in  Cleeve  and  lead  the  life  of  the  people  o£ 
Cleeve,  and  never  more  to  stir  from  Cleeve  till  death 
took  her. 

There  was  no  loophole  or  subterfuge  in  her  mind — 


218  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

it  was  an  honest  purpose,  simply  planned,  with  no 
affectation  of  tears  or  posturings,  though  it  cut  her 
more  keenly  than  a  knife. 

Just  as  she  had  said  her  Amen  to  this  future  in 
Cleeve,  the  church  door  opened,  and  Beauclerc  and 
Harlowe  looked  in.  The  poet  went  his  way  and  the 
Duke,  tiptoeing  lest  he  should  frighten  or  disturb 
her,  his  eyes  fixed  covetously  on  the  little  figure  kneel- 
ing there  in  the  linsey-woolsey  frock,  reached  her, 
fell  on  his  knees  beside  her,  and  cried  ardently, 
"  Pamela,  love  of  my  soul,  I've  found  you !  " 

Drawing  herself  free,  with  terrified  eyes,  she  looked 
up  and  saw  him. 

There  are  temptations  so  full  freighted  with  car- 
goes of  bliss  and  peace  that  it  takes  your  bravest 
soul  to  push  them  out  of  reach.  It  may  be  that 
Pam  would  then  and  there  have  given  in  and  taken 
the  rest  she  so  dearly  craved  for  a  second,  as  she  felt 
the  fold  of  his  arm,  the  warmth  and  tender  care  of 
it — but  across  their  meeting  glances  struck  a  bolt 
from  the  sky.  There  came  a  flash  so  vivid  that  it 
brought  them  both  to  their  feet  and  set  the  bell  to 
new  and  fiercer  pealing.  It  sent  Harlowe  and  Pamela 
out  into  the  open,  to  find  the  sea  rolling  intoxicated 
with  the  wine  of  the  wind,  lashing,  roaring,  and  on 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  219 

its  crest  a  ship,  splitting,  twisting  this  way  and  that 
at  the  wild  waters'  will. 

"  Be's  the  Portaferry  frigate ! "  shouted  the  old 
shepherd  to  them  as  they  ran. 

Pam  fled  down  the  little  path  straight  to  the  beach, 
Harlowe  with  her ;  all  the  yearning  of  her  soul  rising 
to  mate  and  match  this  war  of  the  elements.  She 
sucked  in  the  salt  mist,  and  longed  to  be  among  the 
folk,  to  do  something  to  help  if  she  could. 

For  all  the  Cleeve  people  were  back  in  their  village 
again;  with  quick  feet  they  had  followed  the  storm 
and  the  frigate  it  drove  before  it. 

"  There  be  lives  to  save !  "  cried  the  carrier. 

"  Aye,  an'  good  firewood ! "  quoth  his  Scots 
spouse. 

And  all  the  men  were  straining  at  the  ropes,  all 
the  women,  too,  then  staring  out  into  the  turmoil 
keen-eyed,  as  the  life-savers  dashed  off  into  the  buffet 
of  the  deeps. 

It  took  hours,  but  even  in  the  teeth  of  such  a  storm 
all  were  brought  to  land,  though  the  rescuers  were 
nearly  as  exhausted  when  they  reached  it  as  their 
burdens. 

Pam,  with  the  other  women,  was  tending  and  com- 
forting these  wretches,  when  down  crashed  the  thunder 


220  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

anew  with  a  peal  so  frantic  that  it  sent  all  who  were 
standing  to  their  knees  with  "  God  ha'  mercy ! "  on 
their  lips.  The  frigate  gave  one  last  leap,  a  huge 
rent  in  her  side  swallowing  all  the  sea  it  could.  Every 
hut  in  Cleeve  trembled,  and  more  than  one  roof  flew 
scurrying  over  the  dunes;  chimneys,  scattered  into 
single  bricks,  came  tumbling  about  their  ears;  they 
thought  the  Judgment  Day  arrived,  and  fell  to 
prayers  and  supplications. 

All  save  the  simple  child,  who,  uplifting  his  hideous 
lilt  in  glee,  dashed  himself  into  the  great  brawl  of  the 
ocean  and  in  a  few  seconds  was  almost  hidden  from 
sight. 

"  My  bairn !  "  shrieked  the  mother.  "  My  bairn ! 
him  I  love  best  o'  all — my  simple,  foolish  bairn !  Save 
him,  oh,  save  him !  " 

The  men  had  done  all  they  could;  Harlowe  was 
carrying  a  sailor  in  his  arms  up  to  the  Inn.  The 
carrier  tried  to  quiet  his  wife  by  saying :  "  Whisht, 
lass ;  'tis  the  Almighty's  will." 

"  Wull  me  no  wulls,  A'mighty  or  none.  He's  my 
bairn.  Eh,  wull  no  one  save  him  ?  Look  at  him ! 
Look  at  him !  " 

Pam  looked  up  from  her  work  for  one  of  the 
rescued — looked  from  the  mother's  face  to  the  face 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  221 

of  the  little  child,  where  it  showed  for  a  moment  in 
the  boil  and  swash  of  the  sea. 

"  Hush ! "  she  cried,  springing  to  the  ropes  and 
throwing  the  loops  over  her  waist  and  shoulders.  "  I'll 
fetch  him  back  to  you.  Here,  have  hold,  all  of  you, 
and  help  me  if  you  can !  When  I  catch  him,  pull ! 
pull  for  your  lives ! "  They  sent  up  a  shout  and 
seized  the  ropes  as  Pam  ran  barefoot  down  the  sands 
to  plunge  into  the  sea. 

"  Pamela ! " 

It  took  Harlowe  but  an  instant  to  wrest  her 
free  of  the  ropes,  lift  her  back  into  safety,  cast 
the  loops  about  his  own  body,  and  dash  into  the 
water. 

"  You ! "  he  cried,  as  his  arms  went  around  her, 
"  you  to  risk  your  life  while  I  live !  My  girl,  you 
know  not  what  love  is." 

But  she  did  know. 

As,  with  the  rest,  she  held  the  ropes  and  watched  the 
breakers  buffet  him;  now  draw  him  under  and  now 
pitch  him  up  on  their  white  crests,  Pam  knew  indeed 
what  love  was.  She  watched  him  attain,  then  lose; 
then  reach  again;  then  slip;  then  clutch  the  child. 
He  caught  him  with  a  grip  of  iron,  and  then  the  peo- 
ple of  Cleeve  pulled,  pulled  against  the  devil  himself, 


222  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

it  seemed,  in  league  this  day  with  the  sea  and  the 

storm. 

Dudleigh  Duke  of  Harlowe  was  a  strong  man  of  a 
splendid  fibre,  but  when  he  reached  shore  and  laid  the 
witless  boy  in  his  mother's  arms,  he  staggered  a  bit, 
and  turned  with  a  smile  to  Pam,  saying :  "  I  cannot 
tell  if  I've  bones  broke  or  not,  but  if  I  have,  will  you 
come  to  the  Inn  and  take  care  of  me?  " 

The  girl  smiled  back,  as  she  toiled  with  the  mother 
over  her  child.  The  whole  of  the  Cleeve  people  that 
were  able  to,  set  up  a  huzza  for  the  stranger  and  his 
valour,  and  among  them  they  bore  him  off  to  the 
Puss  and  Mug. 

Then  the  sun  came  peering  through  the  mist  and 
spray.  Before  long  it  was  shining  full  above  the 
timbers  of  the  Portaferry  frigate,  tossed  on  the 
lulling  waves;  shining  upon  all  the  wreck  and 
strewage  on  the  sands,  shining  full  upon  his  Grace 
of  Harlowe  as  he  got  into  the  dry  garments  of  the 
hostler  at  the  Inn ;  upon  Pam  as  she  ran  thither  and 
yon  about  the  business  of  the  carrier's  household,  too 
long  neglected  because  of  the  hurricane. 

However  fatal  the  stress  that  comes  upon  our 
human  nature,  once  it  is  removed  we  go  quickly  back 
to  our  old  ways ;  and,  by  afternoon,  the  Scotswoman 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  223 

was  elbow-deep  in  her  tubs,  while  Pam,  out  in  the 
garden  under  the  trellis,  was  busy  enough  crimping 
fichus  and  capes,  and  the  simple  lad,  none  the  worse 
for  his  adventure,  fetched  and  carried  irons  for  her 
from  the  fire  indoors. 

Harlowe  intercepted  him  presently,  took  the  flut- 
ing-piece  from  him,  and  sent  him  off  to  the  sweet 
shop  for  comfits,  himself  crossing  the  dishevelled  bit 
of  garden  to  find  Pam  standing  at  the  table  at  work. 

With  a  low  bow  he  handed  her  the  iron.  "  Am  I 
permitted,"  said  he,  half  lightly,  for  he  dreaded  the 
dismissal  he  had  read  in  her  eyes  so  few  hours  ago, 
and  thought  to  parry  it  by  a  gaiety  of  demeanour 
foreign,  at  this  moment,  to  his  sentiments — "  am  I 
permitted  to  wait  upon  the  toast  of  all  London,  and 
to  ask  wherefore  this  whim  of  clear-starching  ruffles, 
frills,  and  rustic  bravery  ?  " 

Pam  curtseyed ;  she  was  ready  to  meet  the  merrier 
mood,  since  she  knew  full  well  she  could  not  endure 
the  other  one. 

"  May  not  the  toast  of  all  London,  your  Grace, 
toast  her  fingers  with  a  hot  iron  if  it  please  her?  Call 
it  whim  if  you  like,  but  if  it  is,  your  Grace  knows  that 
whims  are  things  without  wherefores ! " 

"  Pamela,"  cried  he,  catching  at  her  hand,  "  in  the 


PAMEL'A    CONGREVE 

name  of  Heaven,  what  brought  you  here?  Tell  me, 
won't  you?  " 

"  Aye,"  she  answered  mirthfully,  "  the  carrier's 
cart." 

"  Oh,  Pamela !  Sweet  witch  " — he  laughed  despite 
the  seriousness  of  his  glances — "  to  quit  London  with 
never  a  hint,  and  put  me  into  a  frenzy,  fearing  you 
were  dead,  murdered,  God  knows  what!  Pamela! 
Was  it  kind?  Was  it  just?  Was  it  right?  " 

She  nodded,  thinking  it  was  indeed  all  these  three 
things. 

"  Pam !  "  The  young  man  leaned  across  the  table 
where  she  bent  at  her  work,  his  strong  hands  impris- 
oning both  of  hers  relentlessly.  "  Pam,  came  you 
hither  alone?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  simply. 

"  For  a  man's  sake  ?  "  the  Duke  pursues. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  as  if  brought  to  bay. 

"  Pam,  his  name,  his  name ! "  whispering  agonised, 
his  ruddy  face,  as  he  sat  on  the  table,  bending  over 
her  pale  one. 

"  I  cannot  tell  it." 

"  Pamela ! "  All  the  fierce  tide  of  a  man's  best 
passion  flooded  up  into  his  voice — and  yet  the  tone 
was  so  low  as  scarcely  to  be  audible. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  225 

He  was  so  near ;  so  dear ;  so  true ;  so  brave ;  so  all 
she  craved  and  yearned  for;  so  much  the  answer  to 
her  every  need. 

She  was  so  near — so  utterly  exquisite  and  dearly 
beloved;  the  darling  and  centre  of  his  life  and  heart; 
the  sweet  heaven  of  his  every  hope;  so  palpitating 
with  fond  delights  and  witcheries  and  charms 

And  yet — and  yet 

A  strange  impulse  crept  into  her  face;  he  felt  the 
essence  of  her  ebbing  from,  not  toward  him. 

In  that  moment,  rather  than  resign  her,  he  would 
have  struck  her  to  the  heart. 

But  Pam  shook  herself,  body  and  spirit,  free  of 
him ;  she  laughed  and  pulled  the  laces  over  to  her. 

"  Your  Grace,"  she  said,  "  the  town  's  a-pining  for 
you,  doubtless.  Why  tarry  you  here?  " 

"  Pamela,"  answered  he  madly,  "  did  you  ever  love 
anyone  in  your  life,  any  man,  I  mean  ?  " 

There  was  a  pause. 

Then  she  crimped  the  ruffles  most  carefully  into 
place,  turned  the  pretty  head  this  way  and  that. 
«  Yes,"  she  said,  « I  did." 

Harlowe  bit  his  lip  till  the  blood  came. 

"  God  help  me ! "  he  said  brokenly,  going  away 
from  her. 


226  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

She  stared  at  him,  and  her  slender  arms  went  out. 
He  turned,  saw  them,  and  rushed  straight  back  to  her. 

"  Life  of  me ! "  he  cried,  on  his  knees  and  clasping 
hers,  his  kisses  raining  on  the  linsey-woolsey,  rap- 
turously. "  Oh,  Pam,  even  did  you  once  love  some 
other  man,  'tis  I  am  in  your  heart  to-day!  Nay, 
Pam,  can  you  not  deceive  me.  Tell  it  me,  confess  it ! 
In  the  name  of  Heaven  above  us  stand  not  so  chill,  as 
there  were  something  between  us — some  barrier." 

Pamela  pressed  her  two  hands  on  his  head;  there 
were  tears  somewhere  in  her  speech. 

"  There  is."  She  turned  from  him  and  fled  into 
the  cottage. 


I 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

BACK    IN    LONDON 

same  day  that  the  Earl  of  Charteris 
had  gone  down  to  Tamworth,  persuaded 
he  would  find  Pamela  there,  Heathcote  and 
fat  Peter  Twiss  had  also  visited  the  town  where  they 
had  first  discovered  the  beautiful  player.  Of  course, 
like  the  Earl,  they  failed  to  find  the  object  of  their 
search,  or  any  least  trace  of  her ;  and  back  to  town  all 
three  came,  by  different  conveyances,  no  wiser  than 
they  went — the  peer,  as  we  Rave  seen,  to  Cagliostro's, 
the  manager  to  his  theatre,  and  poor  rotund  Peter 
following  disconsolately  in  his  wake.  From  Godfrey 
these  latter  presently  learned  of  his  fruitless  search, 
and  that  the  Duke  of  Harlowe  was  distractedly  scour- 
ing London  and  the  suburbs  for  news  of  the  lost 
player. 

The  prints  kept  Lady  Betty  informed,  and  so  long 
as  doubt  lay  upon  the  matter  of  finding  Pamela,  her 
spirits  ran  high;  while  Kitty  spent  her  time  sobbing 

227 


228  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

fit  to  break  her  heart,  and  paid  not  the  least  attention 
to  all  Sir  Toby's  sighings. 

Sir  Thomas,  himself  much  perturbed,  presently 
ordered  his  household  down  to  the  country,  but  not 
before  Betty  had  contrived,  by  a  fortunate  accident 
to  her  chair  in  front  of  his  coffee-house,  to  have  a 
meeting  with  Charteris,  and  ask  him  down  to  Har- 
lowe  for  the  Christmas  holidays  now  fast  approach- 
ing. 

"  With  all  my  heart,  Lady  Betty,"  responded  he, 
solicitous  for  her  comfort  in  the  now  replaced  sedan. 

"  And  is  it  sure  you'll  have  all  your  heart  with  you 
when  you  come?  "  she  asked,  bridling. 

"  By  my  life !  that  I  know  not,  for,  look  you,  I've 
not  much  of  the  commodity  left.  You,  with  your 
frowns  and  flounces,  have  nigh  bereft  me." 

He  threw  a  proper  ardour  into  his  glance,  while 
his  thoughts  were  intent  upon  the  probability  of  the 
names  and  bank  accounts  of  the  gentlemen  to  be  met 
at  Harlowe.  When  a  man  has  a  fine  pair  of  eyes  and 
knows  how  to  use  them,  it  is  sometimes  hard  to  reach 
precisely  what  the  calculation  behind  them  may  be. 

"  La !  "  ogled  her  ladyship,  "  I  protest,  Charteris, 
I've  no  frown  for  you  to-day,  if  you  give  me  your 
word  to  come.  I  must  be  returning  to  my  aunt's, 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  229 

since  we  are  quitting  town  ourselves  this  very  after- 
noon." 

"  My  word  is  yours,  dear  Lady  Betty ;  upon  my 
soul  I  do  swear  it,"  and  his  hand  inclosed  hers  and 
carried  it  to  his  lips. 

She  was  borne  off,  well  satisfied,  and  Charteris  re- 
turned to  his  game  in  a  like  frame  of  mind. 

He  knew  that  Harlowe  House  had  been  presented 
by  its  owner  to  Pam ;  that  she  had  bidden  a  large  com- 
pany down  for  Christmas;  that  she  herself  would  be 
there — and  the  picture  thus  presented  was  most  pleas- 
ing to  his  fancy.  For  Charteris  had  now  no  doubt  of 
Pam's  safety.  Like  most  men  of  his  calibre,  he  was 
thoroughly  superstitious;  and  Cagliostro  had  that 
very  day  assured  him  that  Pam  was  safe. 

This  had  required  no  very  wonderful  powers  of 
second-sight — for  the  astrologer  had  had  the  news 
ten  minutes  earlier  from  Godfrey,  who  came  to  engage 
a  half -hour  for  his  mistress  on  the  following  morning. 

For  Pam  was  back  in  London. 

No  sooner  had  she  fled  into  the  Scotswoman's  cot- 
tage from  Harlowe's  fond  persuasions  than  she  had 
been  seized  with  one  of  those  changes  of  mood  which 
render  the  Fair  so  perpetual  and  yet  so  delicious  a 
riddle  to  the  opposite  sex. 


230  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Quite  as  keen  as  had  been  her  relish  for  getting 
away  from  town  and  the  playhouse  was  now  her  im- 
portunate craving  to  get  back.  Finding  her  sole  ob- 
ject foiled,  and  that  here  as  well  as  there  her  lover 
would  be  at  her  side,  Pam  felt  she  could  fight  her  bat- 
tle more  easily  amid  the  glitter  and  bustle,  the  tumult 
and  excitation  of  the  mummer's  life  than  in  the 
silent  remoteness  of  the  sand  and  the  sea. 

Back  she  went,  giving  no  explanation  of  her  dis- 
appearance— it  seemed  a  fine  thing  to  be  thus  a  power 
and  not  compelled  to  furnish  reasons  for  her  acts. 

She  was  greeted  with  a  wild  acclaim ;  with  tears  of 
joy;  even  Twiss  fetching  posies  for  her,  and  God- 
frey from  his  father's  shop  bearing  lily  creams  new- 
named  in  her  honour.  The  prints  were  loud  and  long 
on  her  mysterious  disappearance  and  recovery,  nor 
did  they  shrink  from  indicating  that  the  cause  of  her 
absence  was  a  gentleman  of  the  first  quality,  whose 
suit,  not  prospering,  became  too  ardent,  and  had  sent 
Mistress  Congreve  into  retirement,  whence  happily 
she  had  now  emerged  more  beautiful,  more  radiant,  if 
possible,  than  ever  before. 

When  she  appeared  on  the  stage  the  evening  after 
her  return  the  enthusiasm  of  the  audience  knew  no 
bounds,  and,  not  content  with  the  ordinary  signs  of 


P'AMELrA    CONGREVE  231 

approval,  the  ladies  had  torn  their  bracelets,  rings, 
and  chains  from  their  places  and  flung  them  to  the 
favourite. 

In  vain,  among  all  the  noisy  throng,  Pam's  eager 
eyes  sought  him  she  longed  yet  dreaded  to  behold 
there.  Harlowe  was  not  in  the  house.  Instead  he  sat 
gloomily  in  White's,  ready  almost  to  stick  himself 
through  the  heart  with  his  own  rapier. 

"  How  is  this,  your  Grace?  "  said  Beauclerc,  who 
had  come  in  from  the  theatre  to  seek  him.  "  You  not 
in  Covent  Garden  on  this  night  of  nights  ?  " 

"No,"  returned  the  Duke.  "Why  should  I  be 
there?  Staring  myself  into  a  worse  case  by  feeding 
only  on  the  smiles  intended  for  all  others.  Surrey, 
once  you  envied  me;  put  up  that  sentiment  in  your 
pocket,  sir;  there's  no  more  cause — but,  God  bless 
you  for  the  generous  thing  you  did  when  last  we 
met — at  the  threshold  of  St.  Bees." 

His  hand  clasped  over  the  poet's  lean  fingers,  and 
the  pressure  was  returned  in  kind.  There  was  a  pause, 
tense  with  feeling  on  both  sides,  and  Beauclerc  wist- 
fully put  the  question  that  lay  near  his  heart.  "  Of  a 
truth — tell  me,  if  you  will — did  our  lady  deny  you  ?  " 

"  Aye,  by  my  faith ! "  answered  the  Duke,  rising, 
"  with  a  logic  most  unanswerable." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  There's  naught  *  unanswerable '  in  any  lady's 
vocabulary  until  she  swears  she  loves  another,  and — 
God  Almighty!  Pam  never  said  that  to  you — I 
know  she  loves  you !  " 

"  Tush,  Surrey,  man  of  my  heart !  Hark — there's 
someone  between  me  and  Pamela  Congreve.  Back  to 
the  playhouse,  sir,  I'll — home,  or  to  hell !  What  mat- 
ters whither?  " 

So  Pamela  missed  him,  and  all  the  while  her  sweet 
eyes  sought  him,  her  laugh  grew  louder,  and  her 
smile  gayer,  and  her  glances  more  merry,  the  better 
to  conceal  the  failure  of  her  search.  Well  as  she  knew 
she  had  put  him  away  from  her  forever,  still  she 
yearned  unspeakably  for  one  glimpse  of  him,  even 
across  the  sputter  of  the  footlights. 

Morning  came  after  the  gala  night  of  her  return. 
She  said  to  Jess : 

"  Send  Godfrey  to  Cagliostro,  and  let  him  say  I 
can't  be  there  to-day!  but  will  to-morrow,  do  you 
hear?" 

"  Aye,  madam,  I  am  calling  Godfrey  by  the  bell- 
rope  now,  and  in  the  minute  he'll  be  off  to  the  Strand. 
Please,  you,  at  what  hour  to-morrow?  " 

"  Noon." 

Godfrey  ran  to  Monsieur  Cagliostro's  fleet-foot 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  233 

and  alert,  now  that  his  adored  mistress  was  once  more 
restored  to  his  vision. 

In  his  youthful  zeal,  clambering  up  the  marble 
steps,  he  almost  tumbled  over  Lord  Charteris,  who, 
having  followed  the  wizard's  instructions  the  night 
before  at  the  gambling  table,  was  the  richer  and  come 
to  spend  some  of  the  winnings  on  the  charlatan  who 
had  chanced  to  hit  the  mark. 

"  S'death !  Lout !  Bumpkin !  "  cried  he,  making 
to  kick  Godfrey  out  of  his  path,  but  the  boy  was  too 
nimble  for  him ;  full  of  laughter,  he  dashed  in  ahead, 
delivered  his  mistress'  message,  and  was  out  again 
and  away  by  the  time  the  Earl  had  gained  the 
landing. 

"  Good-morrow,  signer ! "  cried  he  to  the  quack, 
"  who's  this  that  nearly  knocks  a  nobleman  into  the 
kennel  at  your  portal,  without  so  much  as  '  by  your 
leave'?" 

"  Ah,  milord,  milord ! "  answered  the  wily  Ital- 
ian, shaking  his  fat  forefinger  playfully.  "  Milord 
moost  not  quarrel  wis  zat  leetle  boy.  No!  No! 
No!" 

"  Why  not?    Who's  the  boy?  " 

"  Zat  ees  ze  leetle  page  of  ze  diva !  Ze  Goddess, 
what  you  say  ?  la  Congreve !  Aha !  "  The  small  black 


234,  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

eyes  of  the  magician  peered  insinuatingly  up  into 
the  dark  orbs  of  liis  titled  patron. 

Charteris  stood  still.  Devious  as  were  many  of  his 
methods,  he  yet  possessed,  when  his  brain  was  un- 
clouded by  wine,  a  power  of  thinking  quickly,  and  of 
taking  full  advantage  of  the  circumstances  that  pre- 
sented themselves. 

He  smiled  now,  shrugged  his  shoulders  in  the 
French  fashion,  filliped  his  boot  with  his  cane,  and 
waited  the  other's  further  speech. 

"  She  comes  here  to-morrow,  milord." 

Charteris  had  not  dreamed  of  this ;  he  had  only  sup- 
posed, like  many  of  her  sex,  that  Pam  had  sent  her 
sovereign  and  would  get  in  return  the  soothsayer's 
dictum  in  a  few  hours.  His  mind  had  been  quite  made 
up  to  buy  the  Italian  into  sending  something  to 
Pamela  concerning  himself,  but  that  she  was  coming 
to  the  house  in  the  Strand  called  up  new  plans  in  his 
brain. 

He  looked  about,  beckoned  the  fortune-teller  into 
one  of  the  three  crystal  pagodas  that  surrounded  his 
spacious  entrance  hall,  and  drew  the  violet  velvet  cur- 
tains closely  together,  shutting  out  all  the  glare  of 
the  great  gilt  candelabra ;  leaving  merely  the  murky 
glimmer  of  the  incense  burning  in  its  splendid  jars 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  235 

at  either  side  of  the  large  carved  empty  picture- 
frame,  wherein  Cagliostro  at  will,  it  was  believed, 
could,  for  a  fee  of  five  guineas,  show  to  any  lady  or 
gentleman  his  or  her  future  wife  or  husband. 

Here  the  two  men  stayed  in  close  conversation  for 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  until  the  fact  being  made  known 
to  him  that  no  less  than  eighty  ladies  of  quality  and 
half  as  many  gentlemen  were  waiting  on  him  in  his 
gorgeous  crimson  anteroom,  Signer  Cagliostro  was 
forced  to  cut  short  the  interview.  With  profuse  nods 
and  grimaces  he  ushered  the  Earl  to  his  sedan,  and 
returned  to  ply  his  engaging  trade. 

Charteris'  last  words  to  the  charlatan  had  been: 
"  To-morrow,  then,  at  noon." 

With  a  smile  wreathing  his  lips  he  returned  to 
his  house,  and  Pink  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  his 
master  in  a  better  humour  than  for  many  months 
before. 

Charteris  did  not  go  out  that  night,  but  sat  before 
the  fire  dreaming  of  winter  and  summer  nights  in  the 
past;  nights  when  the  moon  had  shone  on  the  deck 
of  a  fishing-smack,  on  the  face  of  a  girl  whom  he 
loved;  nights  when  he  and  she  had  sat  on  the  rocks 
above  the  Smuggler's  Cave  at  Chilton,  and  he  had 
told  her,  as  he  well  knew  how,  the  oldest  story  in  the 


236  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

world,  in  the  newest  and  sweetest  way.  He  re- 
hearsed to  his  fancy  the  first  kiss  he  had  pressed  upon 
her  hand,  the  wide  clear  eyes  that  had  looked  into  his ; 
the  child's  soul  just  awaking  to  delicious  woman- 
hood, of  which  he  had  had  the  first  glimpse.  The 
Earl  ground  his  teeth  together,  as  he  thought  with 
relish  that  before  any  other  man  on  God's  earth  he 
had  seen  the  light  of  love  burn  up  in  Pamela  Con- 
greve's  face.  And  he  swore  a  deep  and  cruel  oath,  as 
he  sat  sipping  his  Burgundy  by  the  hearth,  that  he 
would  have  her  his  once  more  or  kill  the  man  that 
thwarted  him. 

"  Pink ! "  he  cried  at  midnight,  "  warm  my  sheets 
now,  and  call  me  at  ten.  Two  hours  for  my  toilette 
to-morrow,  d'ye  hear,  and  order  my  chair  for  ten 
minutes  before  noon ;  'twill  but  take  so  long  to  reach 
Cagliostro's,  eh?  " 

"  Aye,  my  lord,  ten  minutes  is  enough,  even  though 
the  day  be  wet  and  the  roads  heavy.  Your  lord- 
ship's night  wrapper  lies  ready,  and  the  perfumes  are 
burning  in  the  jar." 

"  Aye,  so — good-night,  you  need  not  attend  me." 

And  Lord  Charteris  went  up  to  his  bed,  promising 
himself  much  delightful  pleasure  on  the  morrow. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

AT  THE  ASTROLOGER'S  IN  THE  STRAND 


f~  ~"^HE  morrow  dawned  resplendent,  all 
a-sparkle  with  frozen  drops  upon  the 
trees.  Hurrying  holiday  crowds  were 
buying  Christmas  gifts ;  country  folk  come  up  to 
town  for  their  shopping,  and  town  folk  skurrying 
to  get  down  into  the  country,  all  were  radiant  with 
smiles  and  cheerfulness.  It  is  a  long  time,  more 
than  seventeen  hundred  years,  for  the  shadow  of  the 
world's  greatest  joy  to  linger  on  the  earth — yet  year 
by  year  and  century  by  century  the  reach  and  glory 
of  it  strengthens,  deepens  everywhere. 

Charteris  rose  at  ten,  and  never  was  gentleman 
more  captious  at  his  toilette;  he  displayed  all  the 
whims  and  caprices  of  a  lady,  as  he  tried  first  this  wig, 
then  that;  one  perfume  now,  and  now  another. 

"  With  submission,  my  lord,"  remarked  Pink,  the 
submission  not  appearing  at  all  in  his  manner,  "  one 
would  suppose  your  lordship  was  a-dressing  for  your 

wedding." 

237 


238  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  you  damned  rascal,"  answered 
the  master,  luxuriating  in  the  rich  fragrances  of 
Monsieur  Gimbart's  best  essences,  and  for  a  moment 
lying  back  in  his  arm-chair  before  the  mirror  and 
closing  his  eyes  in  anticipation  of  the  triumph  to 
come.  Such  was  his  confidence  in  his  own  power  over 
Pamela  that  the  thought  of  failure  never  occurred  to 
him. 

When  he  alighted  from  his  sedan  before  the  astrol- 
oger's in  the  Strand,  it  yet  lacked  twenty  minutes 
of  noon.  His  lordship  picked  his  way  carefully  up 
and  in,  and  presently  disappeared  behind  the  purple 
curtains  of  the  crystal  alcoves. 

A  little  later  Pamela's  chair  stopped  before  Cagli- 
ostro's.  She  was  alone — cloaked,  hooded,  and  veiled 
most  carefully,  lest  spying  eyes  should  recognise  her. 
She  was  admitted  by  the  pompous  lackeys  in  silence, 
and  presently  Cagliostro  himself  entered  the  great 
hall  and  conducted  her  to  the  alcove  in  the  centre. 

The  magician  drew  the  curtains  close;  he  stirred 
the  incense  in  the  jars  with  the  tip  of  his  jewelled 
wand;  took  a  heavy  and  ancient-looking  tome  from 
a  carved  recess,  the  gilt  chain  that  fastened  it  to  its 
column  jangling  on  the  mosaic  pavement  as  he 
opened  it,  and  turned  the  black-lettered  leaves. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  239 

The  lights  on  the  candelabra  twinkled  and  lowered ; 
a  faint  breeze  from  above  caused  the  fluted  silk  ceiling 
and  walls  to  wave  uncertainly  before  Pam's  gaze  as 
she  dropped  her  golden  guinea  into  the  palm  of  the 
astrologer's  Arabian  familiar,  who  then  glided  noise- 
lessly away,  leaving  the  quack  and  his  client  alone 
together.  Then  music  sweet  as  honey,  smooth  as 
silk,  low  as  lovers'  whispers,  came  lilting  in  to  her 
from  some  far-off  spot.  The  voice  of  Cagliostro 
sounded  weirdly  out  from  the  small  gilt  pulpit  in 
which  he  stood,  his  volume  before  him  on  a  jewelled 
lectern,  his  keen  Italian  visage  framed  in  the  Eastern 
turban  he  habitually  wore. 

"  Mademoiselle  comes  for  tidings  of  ze  one  most 
dear  to  her?  "  He  looked  searchingly  at  her,  his 
forefinger  with  its  big  diamond  pressed  upon  the  page 
in  front  of  him. 

Pam  laughed,  not  too  much  impressed  with  the 
soothsayer's  theatrical  methods,  though  her  faith  was 
full  in  his  ability  to  reveal  something  to  her. 

"  Mademoiselle,"  continued  Cagliostro,  unheeding 
the  mirth  of  his  fair  client,  "  zis  ees  ze  great  day  in 
your  life.  Ah,  yais !  ze  stars — behold !  say  so !  "  He 
pointed  upward,  and  at  the  same  moment  the  fluted 
silken  ceiling  parted,  \<o  show  a  sky  as  blue  as  any 


240          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

real  one,  full  of  twinkling  stars  a-cluster  right  above 
Pam's  pretty  head. 

"You  see?  'Tis  a  conjunction  most  unusual." 
Another  wave  of  the  hand,  and  the  silken  ceiling  re- 
sumed its  wonted  aspect. 

"  It  ees  a  most  magnificent  opportunity  zat  made- 
moiselle came  to  Cagliostro  to-day.  Ah — but  yais, 
because  to-day  wis  zose  stars  to  asseest  me  I  can  show 
you  ze  portrait,  ze  name  upon  ze  wall  of  ze  future 
husband!  Oh,  but  yais — eef  you  so  desire — eh?  " 

Pamela  inclined  her  head. 

Since  she  could  stand  alone,  she  had  been  bred  to 
believe  the  stars  ruled  the  tides  and  the  affairs  of  men. 
All  London  believed  in  this  quack  to-day,  and  surely 
she  did  too. 

Cagliostro  tapped  the  lectern  with  his  wand;  the 
Arabian  entered  and  presented  his  palm  again. 

"  Ze  ozzair  guinea,  mademoiselle,  if  you  please  be 
so  condescending — for  zis,  to  show  ze  portrait  in  ze 
frame,  to  write  ze  name  upon  ze  wall,  eet  ees  not  too 
much?  " 

Pam  gave  her  second  guinea,  and  again  the  minion 
disappeared.  Cagliostro  descended  from  his  pulpit, 
his  long  flowing  white  robe  trailing  out  behind  him, 
the  black-letter  book  under  his  arm. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  241 

"  Mademoiselle  weel  pref  air  to  be  alone  when  she 
beholds  zis  charm,  eh?  " 

"  Aye,"  Pam  answered,  now  beginning  to  hold  her 
breath. 

"  So  I  sink,"  replied  the  Italian.  "  Now  I  go  to 
repeat  ze  incantations  in  my  closet.  Zen  will  be  a 
moment  of  darkness,  zen  mademoiselle  can  look  up 
and  behold — ze  future !  " 

As  he  spoke  and  left  the  place,  the  lights  went  out ; 
the  music  swelled  a  little  higher  and  far  more  sweet 
than  ever ;  the  odorous  musks  assailed  her  senses  more 
powerfully;  then  came  the  sound  of  a  muffled  foot- 
step, the  click  of  a  rapier  perchance  against  a 
marble  column  as  someone  passed  her;  the  sense  of  a 
presence. 

Then  the  softest  hint  of  light  in  the  silken  wall 
opposite  where  she  sat  upon  the  divan;  a  hint  that 
grew  stronger,  deeper,  until,  gazing,  Pam  saw  written 
upon  that  wall  in  bold  characters  the  name  and  title : 

"  Pelham  Devereux,  Earl  of  Charteris." 

Her  heart  stood  still  and  every  nerve  and  fibre  in 
her  small  body  quivered.  Her  past  sprang  up  and 
smote  her  almost  to  the  death. 

The  next  second,  as  the  name  faded  out  above  the 
empty  picture  frame,  the  space  was  filled — filled  with 


242  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

the  handsome,  radiant,  debonair  face  and  figure  of 
Charteris  himself. 

Pamela  came  near  swooning,  so  instant  was  her  ter- 
ror, for  she  thought  her  crime  had  found  her  out,  and 
that  it  was  Charteris'  ghost  come  from  another 
world  to  confront  her  with  his  murder. 

She  quivered  from  head  to  foot,  but  only  for  a 
second.  Out  from  the  great  gilt  frame  stepped  Lord 
Charteris,  and  in  a  moment  was  at  her  side,  upon  his 
knee  beside  her,  his  impatient  hands  seeking  hers. 

"  'Tis  I,  Pamela !    I  in  the  flesh!    See!" 

"  God ! "  she  gasped,  "  I  ha'  not  done  a  murder ! 
I  ha'  not  done  a  murder !  "  All  the  perfumed  place 
rang  with  her  laughter  and  her  sobs  as  up  she  rose 
and  paced  the  room,  unmindful  of  the  man  himself, 
but  brain  and  heart  aflame  with  maddest  joy  to  think 
that  taint  was  off  her  soul,  whatever  else  remained. 

"  Did  you  think  you'd  killed  me  that  day  at  the 
Tamworth  Inn,  Pam?  "  asked  he,  laughing  now. 

"  Aye,  I  feared  it.  I  did  not  know.  I  never  could 
learn  aught  of  you.  I  never  knew,  until  I  read  those 
words  there  upon  the  wall,  that  you  were  Lord 
Charteris." 

"  Pelham,  always  to  you,  sweet  life,"  said  he,  ap- 
proaching her  more  closely. 


'Out  from  the  great  gilt  frame  stepped  Lord  Charteris." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  243 

"  Nay,"  she  murmured,  withdrawing,  "  my  lord, 
you  are  to  me  Lord  Charteris  and  no  one  else." 

"  Pamela !  you  are  a  thousand  times  more  beauti- 
ful, more  seductive,  more  all  I  crave  and  yearn  for 
than  you  were  in  those  old  days  when  we  first  met." 

"  Aye,"  said  she,  quite  calmly.  "  I've  got  learning 
now, — a  little  of  it  you  see,  but  quite  enough  to 
teach  me  to  look  askance  at  you." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Just  what  I  say — this  writing  on  the  wall,  this 
frame  filled  by  you,  of  a  truth,  methinks  it  is  planned 
more  dramatic  than  any  play  I  know." 

"  Pamela,  'twas  planned  to  prefigure  you  my  oath 
that  no  man  loves  you  as  well  as  I  do — that  here  I 
beg,  entreat  you  to  take  me  back  into  your  favour. 
Gad's  life,  girl,  I  never  have  cared  a  jot  for  any 
woman  save  you;  you  loved  me  once — do  you  not 
love  me — now?  "  And  the  Earl's  voice  sank  to  a 
musical  enticing  whisper  of  persuasion. 

"  Love  you !  "  she  echoed  in  scorn.  "  You !  you ! 
My  lord,  you've  taken  leave  of  your  senses.  I  de- 
spise and  loathe  you — and  well  you  know  the  reason." 

"  Aye,"  said  he,  between  his  teeth.  "  I  do.  Town 
talk's  all  of  your  passion  for  the  Duke  of  Harlowe." 

"  My  lord,  you  forget  yourself ! " 


244  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Nay,  by  the  Lord !  I  do  remember  myself  and 
all  your  fond,  protesting  oaths  to  be  forever  true  to 
me.  And  more,  since  Harlowe  is  my  rival  and  has 
won  your  favour,  I  too  have  an  oath  to  swear,  Pamela 
Congreve,  as  you  call  yourself  now !  "  His  handsome 
lips  curl  cruelly  and  his  fine  eyes  gleam  like  a  snake's 
beneath  their  heavy  lids.  "  I'll  have  you  despite  him, 
despite  yourself,  despite  the  world !  I'll  commit  every 
crime  in  the  calendar;  I'll  stop  not  at  murder,  Mis- 
tress Congreve !  "  He  seized  her  about  the  shoulders 
and  held  her  closely  to  him.  "  There's  that  hunger 
and  thirst  in  my  blood  and  heart  for  you  as  takes 
not  no  for  an  answer.  By  God  Almighty,  you  shall 
be  mine ! " 

She  wrested  herself  free  of  him,  just  as  the  can- 
delabra came  to  light  again;  just  as  the  music  lulled, 
as  the  incense  burned  down  into  an  ash;  as  a  chair 
stopped  at  the  astrologer's  door ;  as  Harlowe  entered, 
coming  quickly  from  Sweet-Acre  House,  where  he 
had  learned  from  Jess  what  he  longed  to  know. 

He  started  back  in  surprise,  his  hat  off,  and  bowed 
to  the  ground  before  Pamela,  who  stood  still,  not  a 
muscle  of  her  whole  body  moving,  but  a  panic  at  her 
heart. 

Charteris,  calm  and  collected,  with  no   mind  at 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  245 

all  to  give  his  affairs  into  another  man's  keeping, 
said  with  a  low  bow,  "  Your  servant,  your  Grace  " ; 
and  to  Pamela:  "  Madam,  yours  to  command." 

"  Mistress  Congreve  and  you,  my  lord,  are  friends, 
then?  "  said  Harlowe,  every  jealous  ounce  of  blood 
rushing  to  his  face,  as  he  sought  to  restrain  his 
anger. 

"  Hardly  that,  your  Grace,"  returned  Charteris 
lightly.  "  Mistress  Congreve  and — the  unworthy 
Earl  of  Charteris  never  met  until  to-day." 

He  flung  a  glance  of  amused  triumph  at  Pamela, 
crossed  the  apartment,  and  while  the  Duke  for  a 
second  studied  the  fair  face  near  him,  added :  "  Per- 
chance your  Grace  would  do  me  the  favour  to  present 
me  in  due  form  to  the  reigning  toast  of  London, 
since  report  hath  it  you  are  chiefest  of  her  adorers." 
There  was  the  same  sneer  in  his  tone,  Harlowe  un- 
consciously noted,  as  was  there  the  night  at  White's, 
when  he  had  fought  shy  of  a  challenge. 

"  So  I  am,  my  lord,  and  proud  of  the  distinction. 
If  Mistress  Congreve  so  desires,  I  will  present  you 
to  her;  her  wish  is  my  law." 

"  There  is  no  need,"  said  Pamela  very  low,  her 
whole  soul  revolting  at  the  Earl's  lie,  but  unable  to 
refute  it,  or  to  make  any  defence  save  silence. 


246  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  No  need,  d'ye  hear,  Duke  ?  "  exclaimed  Charteris, 
with  a  covert  exultation  in  his  voice.  "  There  are 
those  who  recognise  each  other  at  first  sight — ha !  ha ! 
ha !  Mistress — your  Grace — I  humbly  take  my  leave 
of  you ! "  And,  well  pleased  with  his  midday  en- 
counter, Charteris  left  the  astrologer's  in  the  Strand. 

Pamela's  only  thought  was  to  escape.  She  ran  out 
to  where  her  chair  was  waiting ;  but  Harlowe  followed 
her,  importunate. 

"  Pamela !  a  word,  a  look !  "  She  glanced  at  him 
from  within  the  sedan.  "  Listen — you  thought  to 
escape  me  by  hiding  yourself  at  Cleeve,  'twas  vain; 
you  avoid  me  here  in  town,  'tis  idle;  I  have  a  sense 
within  me  that  this  Charteris  is  your  suitor,  not- 
withstanding what  he  said;  that  will  be  vain,  too! 
Pam!  Pam!  as  I  live,  no  man  shall  ever  win  you 
but  me.  Put  all  the  obstacles  between  us  you 
may;  let  the  past,  whatever  it  be,  throw  shadows 
deep  as  night,  I  swear,  here,  now,  in  open  day,  by  God 
in  his  heaven,  I'll  have  you  to  my  wife !  " 

With  an  impetuous  motion  he  seized  her  hand, 
pressed  his  lips  upon  it,  and  was  gone. 

From  the  coffee-house  window  opposite,  my  Lord 
Charteris  saw  him,  and  smiled  serenely.  He  was 
laying  a  wager. 


CHAETEB  XXV 

AT  HARLOWE  HOUSE 

WHEN  Pamela  reached  home  she  found 
the  call  for  rehearsal  awaiting  her,  and 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  go  at  once 
to  the  playhouse ;  no  time  for  thinking  and  planning, 
but  off  and  away  to  the  dingy,  dusty  theatre,  to  get 
through  her  lines.  Between  the  scenes,  however,  when 
she  was  resting,  she  had  a  chance  to  collect  herself. 
While  the  orchestra  was  going  over  and  over  the 
music,  while  Heathcote  was  pleading  in  her  ears  for 
recognition  of  his  passion,  while  Peter  Twiss  was 
being  goaded  to  madness  by  mischievous  Meg,  Pam, 
able  to  close  her  ears  to  most  of  it,  was  thinking  out 
her  problem.  Like  the  dancing  waves  on  which  she 
was  born  and  cradled,  she  felt  she  must  go  with  the 
tide.  She  felt  that  something  stronger  than  herself 
was  leading  her  into  the  path  she  must  take,  felt 
that  it  was  useless  to  evade  Harlowe  any  longer  by 
direct  measures,  and  that  all  she  dould  do  was  to 

247 


248  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

temporise  and  parry.  She  knew  she  could  never  be 
his;  in  spite  of  the  great  joy  and  relief  in  her  soul 
•at  finding  Charteris  alive,  there  was  still  that  other 
bar  which  shut  her  out  from  the  happiness  that 
other  women  might  accept,  ram  could  be  no  man's 
wife. 

With  no  hand  to  guide  her,  no  soul  to  consult,  she 
sat  there  on  a  heap  of  costumes  in  a  dark  corner  of 
the  wings,  waiting  for  her  cue,  her  elbows  on  her 
drawn-up  knees,  her  chin  within  her  palms.  It  was 
almost  a  foregone  conclusion  that  her  decision  would 
be  of  a  piece  with  the  mutable,  sun-kissed,  storm- 
tossed  waters  she  loved  so  well. 

Then  the  music  began. 

Pam  sprang  up,  and  her  voice  and  soul  caught  the 
tune  and  echoed  it  as  she  ran  to  meet  her  cue,  which 
was,  "  Oh,  she's  a  siren,  and  I  do  adore  her !  "  uttered 
by  fat  Peter  in  mellifluous  tones. 

Out  she  flung,  and  into  the  midst  of  the  scene  with 
him,  so  ardent  and  full  of  spirits  that  Heathcote 
gasped. 

"  Save  yourself,  Pam,  save  yourself ! "  cried  he. 
"  This  is  but  rehearsal !  You  are  acting  better 
than  ever  I  saw  you  before;  keep  it  back  for  to- 
night." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  249 

"  Nay !  "  responded  she.  "  I  must  out  with  the 
mood  when  'tis  upon  me.  Ah,  Heathcote,  look  you, 
I  never  laughed  so  bravely,  eh  ?  " 

"Never!"  said  he  emphatically.     "Why  is  it?" 

"  Well,"  answered  she,  "  'tis  because  I've  tried 
being  solemn,  and  I  cannot.  There's  nothing  in  life 
but  laughter — and  tears !  and  I  choose  laughter !  " 
And  not  one  of  them  all  knew  in  the  least  what  she 
was  talking  about.  "  I  tell  you,  Heathcote,  I'm 
going  down  to  my  house  of  Harlowe  for  Christmas, 
and  I'm  taking  every  one  of  you  with  me !  d'ye  hear? 
All  of  you,  as  I  said  from  the  first." 

"  Pam,"  whispered  the  manager,  in  an  access  of 
eager  jealousy,  "  is't  true,  then,  that  you're  accept- 
ing the  Duke's  suit  ?  " 

"  Tush,  sir,  I've  no  need  of  suits !  Have  not  I  a 
dozen  of  'em  in  velvet,  satin,  paduasoy,  hanging  in 
my  tiring-room?  'Tis  a  house  I've  accepted,  and  to 
it  I  bid  you  all  for  Christmas ! " 

"  But,  mistress,"  panted  fat  Peter,  "  how  '11  the 
players  comport  themselves  a- jostling  with  the  no- 
bility and  gentry  there?  " 

"  Fie,  Twiss,  and  you  going  to  play  a  king's  role 
this  very  night !  '  Comport  themselves  ' !  Like  gen- 
tlefolks as  all  of  'em  are  at  heart;  God  bless  'em! 


250  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Kinder  creatures  ne'er  drew  breath.  Hist — if  the 
quality  doesn't  like  us,  they  can  go!  We'll  have 
the  merriest  Christmas  under  the  sun  with  'em,  or 
without  'em,  whichever  they  like !  " 

The  news  of  Pam's  intention  travelled  quickly 
down  to  Harlowe;  more  quickly  to  the  coffee-house 
that  the  Duke  frequented.  He  derived  much  com- 
fort from  this  intelligence,  as  was  indeed  most  nat- 
ural, although  it  is  not  to  be  forgotten  that  a  lady's 
behaviour  may  often  have  one  construction  put  on 
it  by  the  gentlemen  who  worship  her,  and  quite  an- 
other by  herself. 

With  Pam,  it  was  a  matter  of  fate;  here  was  the 
house — why  not  go  to  it?  Nothing  was  of  much 
consequence — it  was  therefore  as  well  to  do  this  as 
that.  She  dared  not  look  forward;  so  to  be  gay  in 
the  present  hour  was  all  her  endeavour.  She  was 
afraid  to  think,  and  she  embraced  any  sort  of  diver- 
sion which  would  keep  her  from  that  pain. 

It  was  a  species  of  desperation ;  but  instead  of 
mouthing  and  weeping  over  it,  she  held  up  her  head, 
and  smiled;  lilted  the  hours  through,  and  was  no 
burden  upon  any  human  being — except  that  Har- 
lowe's  yearning  for  her  love  was  anguish  to  him. 

Meantime  the  mood  at  Harlowe  was  to  the  full 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  251 

as  keen  for  mirth  and  jollity  in  the  minds  of  at  least 
a  portion  of  that  household. 

Sir  Thomas,  too  happy  at  finding  himself  with  a 
roof  above  his  head,  congratulated  his  lady  upon 
the  happy  issue ;  Betty,  pleased  that  she  had  a  house 
to  ask  Charteris  to,  and  that  his  acceptance  was  hers, 
although  somewhat  embittered  by  the  fact  that  the 
player  would  be  here,  too,  yet  felt  that  buoyant  con- 
fidence in  her  own  methods  which  rendered  her  pleas- 
ing in  her  deportment  towards  her  relations,  at  any 
rate  for  the  nonce. 

Kitty,  in  a  fever  of  delight,  was  brimming  with 
irrepressible  fun,  and  when  the  day  before  Christmas 
dawned,  as  early  as  nine  o'clock  this  elf  was  up 
and  down  in  the  great  hall,  peeping  out  at  the 
draughty  windows. 

"  Toby  Spencer ! "  called  the  little  witch,  in  a 
smothered  tone,  remembering  that  her  father  might 
enter  at  any  moment,  as  she  opened  the  casement  a 
little. 

"  Aye !  "  sounded  weakly  from  without. 

"  A  merry  Christmas !  "  cried  Miss  Romp,  aiming 
at  his  head  a  snowball  gathered  hastily  from  the 
sill. 

"  Oh,  and  the  like  to  you ! "  whispered  Sir  Toby, 


252  PAMELA    CON  GREV  E 

now  venturing  to  advance  and  show  himself  between 
the  fluttering  curtains.  "  Where's  your  father?  " 
added  he,  glancing  tremulously  about  the  room. 

"  In  his  boots !  Lud !  Sir  Toby,  you  are  shaking 
like  a  spaniel  newly  from  the  water;  come  in  like  a 
Christian,  and  put  a  bold  face  on  the  matter ;  come !  " 

"  I  dare  not,  Kitty !  "  answered  he  ruefully.  "  It's 
all  very  well  to  talk  bravely,  but  Sir  Thomas  swore 
he'd  shoot  me,  if  he  caught  me  under  his  roof  again." 

"  'Tis  not  his  roof !  "  pulling  him  in.  "  It's  Mis- 
tress Pamela  Congreve's  roof!  and  she's  invited  you 
for  the  Christmas  dances,  and  my  father  has  no  more 
to  say  in  it  than  the  Pope  of  Rome !  " 

"  Kitty,"  replied  her  swain,  shrinking  back  closer 
to  the  casement,  "  I'd  sooner  die  at  home  for  love  of 
you,  than  by  a  bullet  here.  I  only  came  to  say  I 
couldn't  come  to-night  for  the  dance ! " 

"  You  came  from  Cork,  I'll  warrant,"  cried  she 
scornfully.  "  Toby,  if  you  love  me," — the  valiant 
baronet  groaned, — "  you'll  come  in  to-night  at  the 
front  door  like  any  other  guest,  and  stick  fast  to  me 
under  dad's  very  nose.  If  you  do  not,  mark  me,  I'll 
wed  at  Candlemas  with  a  more  courageous  gentle- 
man ;  and  that's  Lord  Rawdon,  who  adores  me  to  dis- 
traction !  There ! " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  253 

"  Well,"  murmured  the  young  gentleman,  "  I  sup- 
pose I'll  have  to  come !  " 

"  Have  to !  forsooth !  Nay,  Sir  Quake-in-your- 
shoes,  stop  away,  I  care  not !  There's  to  be  vastly 
amusin'  entertainment — a  boar's  head  and  a  Yule 
log,  and  a  puddin'  all  aflame;  and  a  dance  with 
rapiers,  and  the  mistletoe  to  be  hung  up  yonder  be- 
neath the  rail,  just  above  the  secret  panel." 

"  The  mistletoe  " — quavered  Toby,  smiling,  Mis- 
tress Kitty's  lips  appearing  especially  tempting. 
«  '  Secret  panel ' !  "  he  echoed.  "  What's  that?  " 

"  It's  in  there,"  said  she,  pointing  to  the  wall  of 
solid  oak  in  the  square  of  the  winding  stairs. 
"  There's  a  small  space  within  for  valuables,  where 
the  Duke  always  has  kept  the  splendid  Harlowe 
jewels  for  safety.  They're  in  it  now,  and  the  key  to 
the  panel  hangs  at  his  fob." 

"Oh!"  said  Sir  Toby,  relieved.  "I  thought  it 
might  be  one  of  those  awful  dark  prisons  where  your 

father  might  put  me  if  he  caught '  Sir  Toby's 

further  speech  was  cut  short  by  voices  approaching 
and  footsteps  too.  "  Egad !  "  cried  he,  breaking  for 
the  window.  "  Let  me  go !  " 

"  Nay,  sir,  you  shan't  be  afraid ;  I  ain't ! "  an- 
swered she,  clinging  to  him  and  laughing  merrily. 


254  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Of  course  you  ain't ! "  exclaimed  the  lover. 
"  Ladies  have  nothing  to  be  afraid  of.  Lud !  I  wish 
I  were  one  of  'em !  It's  we  men  who  have  to  face  the 
dangers — Ow ! "  and  Sir  Toby  broke  from  his  Fair, 
and  cleared  the  window  ledge  at  a  bound.  But  as 
he  went  Kitty  snatched  his  hat  from  him,  and  held  it 
behind  her,  as  in  came  her  father  marshalling  the 
butler  and  Godfrey  Gimbart,  both  their  arms  full  of 
holly  and  mistletoe. 

Kitty,  shaking  with  mirth,  stood  on  tiptoe  at  the 
panel,  dandling  the  hat  just  above  her  suitor's  reach. 

"  What  are  you  doing  with  a  window  open  on  a 
day  like  this,  miss?  "  cried  Sir  Thomas,  feeling  a 
breeze  at  his  ears  and  beginning  to  sneeze. 

"  I  was  only  looking,  daddy,  at  a  dear  little  snow- 
bird." She  waved  the  hat  once  more,  and  then 
dropped  it  to  its  owner  and  closed  the  casement  de- 
murely. 

"  Dear  little  fiddlestick !  "  echoed  the  baronet. 

"  Nay,  sir,  a  dear  little  white  bird  with  a  yellow 
top-knot,  and  oh,  how  you'd  have  liked  to  serve  him 
in  a  pie  if  you'd  but  seen  him !  My  lady  mother,  sir, 
bade  me  tell  you  she'd  be  with  you  presently."  At 
which,  with  a  fine  curtsey,  Mistress  Kitty  made  off,  as 
Lady  Trevor  came  in. 


PAMELA    CONG  R  EVE  255 

"  Lud,  Sir  Thomas,  what  a  merry  creature  la  Con- 
greve  is,  to  be  sure !  I'd  like  to  have  died  just  now  as 
she  was  telling  me  how  she  took  you  in,  a-playing  the 
Quaker  maid."  Her  ladyship  fell  laughing  upon  a 
couch. 

"  Egad,  my  lady,"  answered  the  baronet,  a  bit 
nettled,  "  I  thought  I'd  burst  while  she  recounted 
to  me  your  ogling  of  her  there  for  Captain  Mira- 
beau ! "  and  Sir  Thomas  fell  in  equal  merriment  at 
the  other  end  of  the  room  on  a  sofa. 

"  Laugh  'on,  sir — when  all's  said  and  done  one 
can't  help  loving  her.  I  do  for  one,  since  to  her  I 
owe  it  I'm  here  housed  to-day,  and  not  in  the 
beggarly  lodging  you  say  is  all  you  can  now  pro- 
vide." 

"  Zounds,  madam !  Twit  me  not  with  my  mis- 
fortunes. I  do  believe  that  Providence  provides 
wives  for  the  purpose  of  irritating  husbands."  Sir 
Thomas  rose  and  thumped  the  floor  roundly  with  his 
cane. 

"  Lud,  Sir  Thomas,  why  in  the  world  are  all  the 
men  so  eager  to  marry  if  'tis  not  that  the  creatures 
know  they  need  correction  ?  " 

"  Marry  ?  Gad,  madam !  Every  benedict's  at  a 
loss  to  tell  you  why  he  ever  entered  the  estate." 


256          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Yet  not  one  of  your  bachelors  '11  take  the  word 
of  any  married  man  and  avoid  the  pitfall !  all  of  'em 
wild  for  a  try  at  it!  Bah!  Sir  Thomas,  if  Adam 
had  been  sensible  and  satisfied,  no  Eve  would  ever 
have  been  given  to  him — and  then  all  our  troubles 
would  have  had  no  beginning !  " 

"  Tut,  tut,  my  lady !  I  swear  to  you,  if  Har- 
lowe's  bent,  as  they  say  he  is,  on  making  la  Congreve 
his  Duchess,  I'll  second  him ;  she'll  grace  the  estate, 
by  Heavens ! "  and  Sir  Thomas  laughed  heartily  at 
his  own  poor  wit. 

"  Pray  you,  sir,  since  you've  taken  up  match- 
making, where's  niece  Betty  to  come  in  for  a  part- 
ner ?  "  inquired  his  wife  with  freezing  dignity. 

"  Zounds,  madam !  There's  other  men  in  Eng- 
land, ain't  there?  " 

"  Aye,  there's  Lord  Charteris  for  one,"  replied  she, 
drawing  out  her  reticule  strings,  and  threading  her 
needle. 

"  Damn  Lord  Charteris !  " 

"  Nay,  Sir  Thomas,  he's  due  to-day  by  Betty's  in- 
vite for  the  holiday  week." 

"  The  fool !  "  quoth  he  wrathfully. 

"Which  of  'em,  sir?  Betty  or  his  lordship?" 
asked  she  innocently. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  257 

"  The  woman,  of  course,  madam ;  she's  always  the 
fool  in  a  pair !  " 

Lady  Trevor  nodded.  "  Aye,  if  the  man  can  make 
one  of  her." 

"  Which  is  precisely  what  Charteris  is  doing  with 
my  niece.  He's  mad  for  Pamela  Congreve,  all  the 
while  he  doubtless  makes  Betty  believe  'tis  for  her 
own  sake  he  accepts  her  Christmas  invite !  Tut,  tut, 
madam,  listen — if  Charteris  make  not  proposals  to 
me  for  a  marriage  with  Betty  within  the  week,  then 
'twere  better  the  child  lay  in  her  grave,  for  she  loves 
him." 

"  Pshaw,  sir,  love's  a  pretty  thing,  I  swear,  but  'tis 
not  marriage.  If  Charteris  can  but  persuade  the 
player  to  love  him,  this  leaves  Harlowe  free  for  our 
niece  to  catch  on  the  rebound;  your  debts  paid  by 
him ;  and  your  poor  family  kept  from  starvation." 
Her  ladyship  now  shed  a  few  timely  tears. 

"  Humph ! "  Sir  Thomas  threw  out,  as  he  paced 
the  hall.  "  What,  then,  if  Charteris  succeed  not  with 
the  Congreve  ?  " 

"  I  know  not,  save  that  then  perchance  Betty  '11 
Win  him.  But  if  she  does  not,  sir,  where  are  we?  " 

"  Gad,  my  lady,  you  have  me." 

86  Aye,  sir,  more's  the  pity !     I  have !  " 


258  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  If  Betty  marries  Charteris — Gad's  life !  'twere 
better  she  were  dead,  I  swear.  'Tis  a  gamester,  a 
trickster — 'pon  my  life,  Elizabeth,  I've  heard 
rumours  he  was  deep  in  the  smuggler's  trade  off  the 
coast  of  Chilton,  some  while  ago;  and  as  for  cards 
he's  up  to  every  trick  of  that  trade." 

"  Does  he  never  win,  then  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Aye,  but  lately  lost  all,  and  that  impoverished 
he's  apt  for  any  sort  of  roguery  that  presents. 
'Tis  a  scurvy  gentleman,  and  one  I  dread  to  see." 

"  Lud,  sir,  what  will  you !  If  Harlowe  makes  the 
Congreve  his  Duchess,  our  niece  may  have  to  put  up 
with  Charteris — if  she  can  get  him ;  a  young  lady  of 
quality  must  marry  someone!  That  was  my  estate 
of  mind  when  I  took  you !  "  With  which  wifely  blast 
her  ladyship  sailed  away  to  partake  of  jam  and 
muffins  in  the  dining-room,  most  complacently. 

When  Mistress  Kitty  left  her  parents,  she  did  not 
go  up  to  join  Pamela  or  Betty,  nor  yet  to  the  but- 
tery for  inspection  of  the  dainties  there  preparing 
under  Jess's  eye  against  the  feast,  but  whipping  a 
cloak  from  the  pegs,  she  threw  it  over  her  head,  and 
out  into  the  snow,  heedless  of  the  thin  slippers  she 
wore. 

"  Toby,"  she  called  softly,  skirting  the  lawn  in  the 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  259 

shade  of  the  evergreens,  and  whistling  with  pursed 
lips  a  tune  he  liked. 

Presently  came  back  the  answer,  and  in  five 
minutes  more  Sir  Toby  Spencer  and  Mistress  Kitty 
Trevor  were  swaying  in  the  great  bough  of  a  bare 
oak,  yet  safe  sheltered  by  intervening  foliage  from 
observation  at  the  house. 

Soon  they  heard  wheels  grinding  on  the  snow ;  they 
held  their  breath  for  these  to  pass  on  the  road  below 
their  hiding  place,  trusting  to  Fate  that  the  occu- 
pants of  chaise  or  coach  would  look  neither  up  nor 
out. 

There  was  but  one  occupant  of  this  chaise — the 
poet.  He  did  look  out,  perceived  the  pair,  and  call- 
ing to  his  postilions  to  halt,  cried  out :  "  A  Merry 
Christmas  to  my  pretty  birds  on  their  perch ! " 

"  We're  glad  you've  come,  sir,  and  Mistress  Con- 
greve  '11  be  happy  too  —  but,  sir,  for  Heaven's 
sake " 

"  Aye,  Mr.  Beauclerc,  for  Heaven's  sake,  not  a 
word  to  Sir  Thomas  Trevor  of " 

"  His  daughter's  whereabouts,"  interrupted  Kitty. 

"  Of  mine !  mine !  sir !  "  gasped  Toby,  turning 
white  as  the  snow. 

"  I  never,  pardon  me ! "  returned  the  hunchback, 


260  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

much  entertained,  as  he  regarded  the  shivering  suitor, 
"  saw  so  underdone  a  lover.  Fie,  Sir  Toby,  get  up 
your  colour  and  your  courage.  Get  overdone,  sir, 
that's  the  way  the  ladies  like  their  wooing  served  up 
to  'em!" 

"  Aye,"  says  Kitty,  "  that  we  do.  I  for  one  like 
everything  overdone,  from  beef  to  gallants ! " 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  returned  Toby,  "  but  Mr. 
Beauclerc,  sir,  I'm — damme!  I'm  afraid  of  Sir 
Thomas ! " 

Kitty  nodded.     "  He  is,"  confirmed  she. 

Beauclerc  laughed  again.  "  Bah,"  said  he,  "  to- 
night under  the  mistletoe  you'll  chatter  of  another 
mood!" 

"  Under  the  mistletoe — I — can — kiss  Kitty !  there, 
can't  I?  "  he  said  joyfully. 

"  Kiss  her  now !  "  cried  the  poet.  "  Look,  the  two 
of  you  sit  right  under  a  spray  of  it,  see ! " 

Toby  looked  at  the  white  berries  which  were  really 
brushing  the  top  of  Mistress  Kitty's  curls,  but  under 
Beauclerc's  eyes  he  hesitated. 

"  Be  quick  about  it,  Toby,"  said  the  romp,  "  or 
Mr.  Beauclerc  '11  take  the  advantage  of  you;  he's 
under  the  mistletoe,  too !  " 

"  Don't  be  too  quick  about  it,  sir,"  said  Beauclerc. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  261 

"  In  the  matter  of  kisses,  Toby,  my  boy,  always  take 
your  time,  and  get  as  many  kisses  in  the  time  as  you 
can ! " 

"  Aye ! "  said  Toby,  now  most  valorous,  and  hav- 
ing Kitty  at  his  mercy. 

"  Toby !  Toby  !  Stop,  sir !  "  cried  she  in  vexation. 
"  Be  judicious! " 

"  Nay,  sir,  by  Heaven !  "  exclaimed  the  poet,  vastly 
amused.  "  Remember  this  in  your  wooing :  never  be 
judicious.  'Tis  the  very  last  quality  wherewith  to 
please  a  lady." 

He  gave  the  sign  to  his  men,  and  was  off  to  the 
house,  leaving  the  two  to  themselves  once  more. 

His  laughter  died  down  as  he  neared  the  portal. 

He  had  not  seen  Pam  since  the  day  he  had  found 
her  kneeling  before  the  altar  of  St.  Bees,  and  it  had 
been  a  subject  for  consideration  with  him  whether  or 
not  he  should  accept  her  invitation  when  it  came. 

Yet  he  came,  as  it  was  a  foregone  conclusion  he 
would;  did  ever  lady  beckon  and  sighing  swain  not 
run,  though  it  were  to  the  reading  of  his  own  death- 
warrant  ? 

Moreover,  Beauclerc  knew  that  Harlowe  would  be 
there.  Lady  Betty  had  asked  him;  and  since  Pam 
had  accepted  his  gift,  the  donor  would  hardly  be 


262        PAMELA  CONGREVE 

missing  from  the  feast.  He  was  aware,  too,  that 
Lord  Charteris  was  to  be  at  Harlowe,  and,  in  his 
sensitive  soul,  he  had  intimation  of  possible  trouble 
to  ensue  from  the  meeting  of  such  varied  elements. 
It  was,  therefore,  with  some  apprehension  that  the 
hunchback  alighted  at  Harlowe,  and  found  himself 
at  once  in  the  company  of  Lady  Betty  alone  in  the 
hall. 

"  Mr.  Beauclerc,  sir ! "  cried  she,  "  you  are  more 
than  welcome;  you  come  from  town!  Tell  me,  is 
Lord  Charteris  on  the  road  hither?  "  Her  eyes  spar- 
kled, and  her  thin  lips  grew  thinner  with  ill-concealed 
anxiety. 

"  I  kiss  your  ladyship's  hand.  Lord  Charteris  is 
on  the  road,  and  also  the  Duke  of  Harlowe.  I  saw 
them  both  ere  I  left  the  Strand.  A  Merry  Christmas 
to  you ! " 

"  You  bring  me  good  news,  sir !  Mr.  Beauclerc, 
you've  known  Betty  Wyndham  since  her  childhood. 
That  for  a  '  Merry  Christmas  '  here !  "  Betty  crossed 
over  to  the  fireplace  and  kicked  the  holly  boughs 
in  unmistakable  wrath.  "  Is  this  I,  sir,  harbouring 
under  a  play-actress'  roof!  tarrying  to  catch  ap- 
proval from  a  gentleman  on  his  way  to  reach  an- 
other lady's  greetings!  languishing  in  the  country 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  263 

to  look  at  icicles  like  Heathcote,  the  manager,  and 
you,  and  all  the  other  men  who'll  only  melt  when 
Pamela  Congreve  smiles  on  them!  I  swear,  sir,  I'm 
of  that  humour  I  could  open  a  vein,  and  go  cheer- 
fully to  my  grave !  " 

"  Betty,  my  dear  Betty,"  cried  the  poet,  with  true 
compassion,  "  look  you,  if  it  be  so  that  both  Char- 
teris  and  Harlowe  are  Mistress  Congreve's  suitors, 
pluck  up  a  better  spirit ;  I'm  sure  you'd  not  want  any 
gentleman's  devotions,  when  he  had  bestowed  the 
same  elsewhere  ?  Your  pride,  Betty,  your  pride !  " 

"  Pride  me  no  prides,  sir !  why  should  I  not  crave 
a  gentleman's  devotion  when  that  gentleman  was 
to  me  most  kind  and  loyal  until  a  wily  mummer 
crossed  his  path?  Mistake  it  not,  Mr.  Beauclerc — 
there's  different  kinds  of  pride,  and  mine  'd  be  to 
trample  Pamela  Congreve  under  my  heel ! " 

"  Hush !  I  pray  you,"  exclaimed  the  hunchback, 
for  at  this  moment  Charteris  arrived,  and,  thinking 
it  wisest  to  leave  the  lady  to  meet  a  recreant  lover 
alone,  he  sought  the  hostess  in  the  drawing-room. 

"  Ha !  "  The  Earl  advanced,  debonair  and  merry, 
hand  on  heart,  and  none  the  worse  of  aspect  for  his 
jolt  down  from  London.  "  The  very  one  I'd  hoped 
to  find  first  welcome  from — Lady  Betty ! "  He 


264  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

pressed  a  salute  upon  a  somewhat  reluctant  hand. 
"  No  word  for  him  who  sighs  for  one  from  thee?  " 
he  went  on  half  lightly,  yet  with  an  insidious  sweet 
undertone  of  possible  sincerity. 

"  Bah !  my  lord,"  cried  Betty,  flinging  from  him, 
yet  beginning  to  show  truce  in  her  tones ;  "  all  you 
sigh  for  is  to  win  gold  at  cards  and  favourable  usage 
from  the  Congreve." 

The  Earl  stood  still,  flicking  his  boot-top  with 
his  riding-whip,  as  was  his  habit  when  meditating; 
then,  following  Betty  he  spoke  with  the  air  of  one 
whose  resolution  is  well  taken. 

"  You  speak  the  truth,  Betty,"  said  he  seriously, 
"  but  not  the  whole  of  it.  I  lost  every  penny  I  have 
in  the  world  night  before  last  at  Will's ;  there- 
fore, I'm  ready  to  win  anything  I  can;  I  sigh  for 
Congreve's  favours,  yes."  He  nodded  emphatically 
as  Betty's  eyes  flashed  upon  him.  "  In  your  soul 
'tis  a  drawn  game  whether  you  take  me  or  take  the 
Duke  of  Harlowe.  My  lady,  since  you  can  put  two 
gentlemen  in  the  balance,  and  weigh  them,  by 
Heavens,  I  can  place  a  pair  of  ladies  in  the  scale  and 
appraise  them !  "  Content  with  his  stroke,  he  saun- 
tered up  the  room,  and  looked  carelessly  out  of  the 
window. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  265 

"  Charteris !  "  cried  Betty  joyfully,  "  do  you  speak 
the  truth?  " 

"  Naught  else,"  answered  he,  "  only  there's  more 
to  it.  Since  Harlowe's  my  rival,  I  swear  to  you  I'd 
see  him " 

At  this  moment  so  deep  were  they  in  their  own 
thoughts  that  neither  of  them  noted  Godfrey  Gim- 
bart  entering  by  the  upper  portal  with  more  holly. 
He  halted  at  the  threshold,  arrested  by  an  instinct 
that  often  warns  gentle  and  simple  alike  of  danger 
to  his  dearest. 

"  Pelham !  "  whispered  Lady  Betty,  not  ill-pleased 
at  the  prospect  of  bloodshed  on  her  account. 

"  Aye ! "  he  said  seriously.  "  By  my  faith  he 
tried  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  me  not  long  since;  I'd 
none  of  it;  I'd  not  be  put  into  the  grave  for  his 
sake ;  I'd  live  for  the  lady  I  love,  but,  I  swear,  there's 
other  modes  than  duelling,  Betty,  for  getting  a 
gentleman  put  into  his  family  vault." 

"  Hush-h ! "  said  she,  looking  about  her,  as  God- 
frey drew  back  within  the  shadow  of  the  heavy  cur- 
tains by  the  door.  "  Would  you  do  as  much  for  me 
as  that?" 

"  I  would  do  more  for  the  lady  I  love,"  he  re- 
turned in  impassioned  tones. 


266  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  But  what  of  this  report — I  have  it  new  this  day 
from  Beauclerc — of  your  infatuation  for  la  Con- 
greve?  "  persisted  she. 

"  Have  I  not  told  you,"  he  responded,  "  'tis  but 
a  whim  to  anger  my  rival,  who  has,  they  say,  some 
sort  of  pretensions  in  that  quarter?  Bah!  Betty, 
even  if  you  see  me  making  my  devoirs  to  the  actress, 
pay  no  heed;  I'd  do  anything  to  provoke  Harlowe's 
ire." 

Lady  Betty  watched  the  Earl  keenly  as  he  spoke. 
Her  fine  lip  curled;  there  was  so  long  a  pause  that 
he  was  forced  to  question  it  with  at  least  a  glance. 
She  beckoned  him  nearer  to  her,  and  he  came. 

"  Lord  Charteris,"  she  said,  so  low  that  Godfrey, 
unable  to  hear  more,  stole  away,  his  faithful  head 
full  of  what  he  had  overheard ;  "  Lord  Charteris,  I'm 
not  the  fool  you  think  me.  You  love  Pamela  Con- 
greve;  you'll  win  her  from  Harlowe,  if  you  can;  if 
you  can't,  you'll  take  me,  because  of  my  fortune. 
You'll  have  him  killed,  but  you'll  make  her  yours. 
Hearken — she  cares  not  that  for  you!  Harlowe 
is  her  choice,  and  you'll  be  my  husband — oh,  yes — 
I'll  take  you  even  at  your  own  valuation.  I  never 
wanted  anything  in  my  life  I  didn't  get — and  I  vow 
I'll  not  begin  to  be  tricked  now !  But  I  wished  you 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  267 

to  understand  that  I  saw  through  your  artifices,  and 
that  you  were  not  deceiving  me  in  the  least." 

Charteris  laughed.  It  was  his  best  weapon,  for  at 
that  moment  Pamela  came  tripping  in,  fresh  from 
Beauclerc's  chat.  Lady  Betty  flounced  away,  lin- 
gering on  the  stair-landing  just  long  enough  to 
watch  their  meeting. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

I'LL   TELL    THEE    ALL    TO-MORROW 


^*~       ""^  HE  laughter  froze  on  Pam's  lips  when  she 
saw  the  Earl,  for  she  had  not  heard  of  his 
being  among  the  visitors  asked  by  Lady 
Trevor   and   Lady    Betty.      These   had   been   men- 
tioned to  her  inclusively  as  "  some  of  the  neighbour- 
ing gentry,"  Betty  having  her  motives,  and  her  aunt 
being  willing  to  be  guided  by  her  in  such  an  appar- 
ently small  matter. 

"  My  lord,  you  here ! "  exclaimed  Pamela,  adding 
under  her  breath,  "  in  my  house !  " 

"  At  Lady  Betty's  request,"  pleaded  he.  "  Am  I 
not  welcome,  Pam?  " 

And  Betty  on  the  stairs,  all  unheeded  by  them  both, 
echoed  "  Pam !  "  in  sorest  strait  of  scorn  and  pain. 

"  'Tis  hard  to  say  no  at  such  a  time  of  year  as 
this,"  returned  she.  "  You're  welcome  to  remain, 
my  lord,  as  Lady  Betty's  guest;  but  we  two  meet 
as  strangers." 

268 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  269 

"  Nay,  Pamela !  "  cried  he   ardently.      "  Cry   me 
not  off  forever.    Remember  all " 


His  beautiful  large  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her  face,  as 
if  he  would  ensnare  her  by  some  magic  in  their  glance. 

She  shuddered  and  drew  back.  He  followed;  and 
Lady  Betty  leaned  upon  the  landing  rail,  her  heart 
upon  her  lips. 

"  All,"  reiterated  he,  trying  to  take  Pam's  hand, 
"  and  sure  since  Cagliostro  showed  us  both  our  fates 
so  mingled  on  Tuesday  last,  you'll  not  deny  me 
hope?" 

"  But  I  will,"  she  answered ;  "  and  I  do." 

"  By  the  tender  recollection  of  the  past,"  he 
importuned,  touching  the  hem  of  her  gown. 

She  snatched  it  from  his  fingers.  "  Lord  Char- 
teris,"  she  said,  "  the  past  is  dead  to  me,  the  whole 
of  it,  and  it  must  be  so  to  you.  Let  me  pass." 

Courtier-wise  he  stepped  aside,  bowing  to  the 
ground. 

Betty,  on  the  stairs,  had  heard  most  of  their  talk, 
and  now  rushed  down  recklessly,  so  full  of  anger  and 
grief,  that  she  scarcely  knew  where  she  was  going. 

Pamela  saw  her  go  out  of  doors,  but  thought  no 
more  about  her ;  she  had  quite  enough  to  occupy  her  in 
the  fact  that  Charteris  now,  with  Lady  Betty  and  the 


270  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

rest,  was  beneath  her  roof,  and  her  mind  went  back  to 
their  encounter  at  the  Greene  Shippe  in  Tamworth. 

When  Betty  rushed  out  into  the  cloister  for  fresh 
air,  she  met  Harlowe  dismounting  from  his  horse. 
He  bowed  low,  full  of  Christmas  greetings.  But 
Betty  seemed  not  to  see  him.  Her  pent-up  feelings 
cried  for  relief,  and  found  it. 

"The  vixen!  the  hussy!  the  jade!  And  what  is 
he  ?  A  liar !  a  liar !  a  liar !  " 

Harlowe  turned  to  enter  the  house  under  the  pre- 
tence of  not  perceiving  her ;  but  she  was  now  in  such 
a  mood  that  she  welcomed  a  listener.  Accordingly, 
she  hastily  crossed  his  path,  and  curtseyed  to  him 
mockingly. 

"  Lady  Betty ! "  cried  he,  with  a  fresh  bow,  "  a 
Merry  Christmas  to  you !  " 

"  Oh,  merry  it  must  be,  forsooth ! "  answered  she, 
tears  of  rage  standing  in  her  eyes. 

"  Pray,  Lady  Betty,  what  is  the  trouble?  "  asked 
he  gently,  the  sight  of  a  woman's  discomfiture  being 
painful  to  his  chivalrous  nature. 

"  The  trouble  is,"  she  responded,  "  you'd  better 
look  to  your  stroller  sweetheart.  I  saw  her  now 
exchanging  strange  glances  with  my  Lord  Char- 
teris  " — Harlowe  stopped  in  his  walk,  and  his  right 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  271 

hand  instinctively  caught  his  sword-hilt.  "  And,  I 
swear  to  you,  I  heard  them  discoursing  of  their  past 
and  of  their  fortunes  predicted  by  Cagliostro  but 
on  Tuesday  last !  " 

"  Lady  Betty,"  answered  the  Duke  gravely, 
"  'twould  appear  to  me  neither  your  ladyship's  af- 
fair nor  mine  what's  betwixt  our  hostess  and  any 
other  of  her  guests." 

"Oho!"  sneered  Betty,  "is  it  so?  I'd  have  you 
to  know  that  Lord  Charteris  is  my  guest,  and  is  here 
at  my  bidding,  and  not  at  Mistress  Congreve's !  Yet 
is  there  a  secret  between  those  two.  Bah!  you  can't 
deceive  me  no  more  than  Charteris  can.  You  play 
the  indifferent — yet  will  watch  her  as  a  snake  does 
a  bird.  Well,  your  Grace,  she'll  bear  watching." 

And  away  she  rushed  to  calm  herself  by  trouncing 
her  hapless  Abigail,  and  then  to  repent  of  most  of 
what  she  had  said. 

Harlowe  stood  in  the  cloisters,  looking  in  at  a 
window;  he  hardly  knew  what  he  was  gazing  at,  so 
deep  into  his  soul  had  sunk  Betty's  words.  Coupled 
with  his  encounter  at  the  astrologer's,  they  had 
plunged  him  into  a  depth  of  jealous  craving  more 
biting  than  any  he  had  known  before,  because  now 
the  demon  of  doubt  entered  in  and  tainted  all  his 


272  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

dreams.  If  Pamela  and  Charteris  had  never  met 
before  they  did  at  Cagliostro's,  how  could  they  to- 
day revert  to  "  their  past  " !  If — and  if — and 

if A  sorry  procession  galloped  headlong 

through  his  brain. 

Presently  he  looked  up,  compelled  by  someone's 
glance.  Pamela  stood  within,  close  by  the  pane, 
surprise,  unmistakable  pleasure,  and  as  unmistakable 
restraint  and  consternation,  written  upon  her  face. 

Harlowe  stepped  quickly  to  the  casement.  "  Oh, 
open  it ! "  he  cried,  the  splendid  buoyancy  of  youth 
overcoming  all  his  new-born  fears. 

Pamela  opened  the  window. 

"  Your  Grace ! "  said  she,  "  I  quite  forgot.  I 
never  dreamed  to  see  you  here.  I  was  a  fool.  I 
should  have  known  you'd  come,  but — I  did  not.  Else 
would  I  not  have  come  myself !  " 

In  that  moment  she  recognised  how  childish, 
thoughtless,  and  incoherent  had  been  her  behaviour 
in  coming  to  Harlowe  after  what  had  passed  between 
her  and  the  Duke  at  Cleeve. 

"  Shall  I  then  go  away  ?  "  he  asked  humbly,  com- 
ing close,  and  leaning  on  the  sill. 

"  From  your  own  house !  On  Christmas  Eve ! 
No,  no,  a  hundred  times  no !  "  she  cried  remorsefully. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  273 

"  'Tis  not  my  house :  'tis  yours,  Pam ! " 

She  laughed. 

"  Thy  hand  ?  Lend  it  me  a  little  for  a  holiday 
greeting?  "  he  pleaded,  outstretching  his  own. 

"  Nay,"  said  she,  shaking  her  head.  "  'Tis  un- 
perfumed  yet  to-day." 

"  But  breathe  upon  it,  and  'twill  smell  as  sweet  as 
any  flower  of  May !  Thy  hand,  Pam !  " 

She  shook  her  head  again.  She  dared  not  trust 
herself  with  the  touch  of  those  strong,  firm  fingers 
closing,  as  she  knew  they  would  close,  over  hers. 

Still  he  held  out  his  open  palm,  expectant,  begging. 

"  You  will  not?  " 

"  No." 

"  Pam,  what  is  the  reason  you'll  not  quit  the  play- 
house forever,  and  come  and  make  a  home  with  me? 
Tell  me." 

The  words  were  few  and  simple,  yet  they  con- 
jured up  a  wonderful  picture  before  Pamela's  mind. 

"  A  home ! "  echoed  she,  her  lips  making  a  brave 
attempt  at  banter,  but  her  tone  and  eyes  belying 
them.  "  Now,  what's  that,  a  home?  " 

"  'Tis  you  and  I  alone  together,  day  and  night, 
at  one  fireside ;  one  roof  above  us ;  'tis  I  going  forth 
for  this  and  that,  to  come  back  and  find  you  waiting 


274  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

for  me;  'tis  you  opposite  me  when  we  sit  at  table; 
you  prevailing  in  and  presiding  over  all  my  interests, 
hopes,  aims,  plans ;  'tis  I,  lord  of  your  soul,  and  heart, 
and  body;  you,  queen  of  me  and  all  I  am  or  may 
become.  That's  a  home,  Pam!  Will  you  come  and 
make  it  for  me?"  His  voice  was  low,  so  low  she 
could  but  catch  its  murmur ;  but  the  passion,  and  the 
longing,  and  the  purpose  of  it  knocked  louder  at  her 
heart  than  anything  else  had  ever  done,  save  one. 

She  had  almost  reached  out  her  arms  to  enfold  and 
take  him  in — then  she  remembered  and  refrained. 

With  a  little  smile,  forlorn  in  its  intention  of 
gaiety,  she  said  to  him :  "  Now,  your  Grace,  do  I  not 
owe  it  to  Art  and  Letters  to  stick  to  the  theatre? 
What  would  the  play-authors  do  without  me,  and  as 
for  the  critics !  Lud,  sir,  they'd  need  go  hang ! " 

"  Pamela,"  answered  he,  "  'tis  not  any  of  these 
that  are  keeping  you  from  me.  Who  is  it?  " 

"  Since  you  think  there's  someone,"  laughed  she, 
"  suppose  you  name  him." 

"  Charteris !  "  The  name  sprang  to  his  lips ;  then 
noting  the  flush  on  her  face,  he  repented.  "  Even 
did  he  encounter  you  first  on  Tuesday  last,  he's  not 
unlike  to  be  your  adorer  now.  Is  it  Charteris  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  275 

"  You  don't  love  him  ?  "  he  cried  eagerly. 

"  No,"  she  quietly  replied. 

"  Pam !  Pam !  "  His  importunate  arms  were  al- 
most around  her.  "  Pam,"  he  whispered,  "  do  you 
care  a  little  for  me,  dear?  " 

In  a  flash  she  thought  she  might  tell  him  as  much 
as  this,  and  then,  then,  the  parting  must  come,  the 
parting  that  would  have  to  be  forever. 

She  was  on  the  point  of  this  fashion  of  an  answer, 
when  Kitty  was  heard  calling  within. 

"  Pam ! "  he  said  again  more  urgently,  holding 
her  imprisoned. 

"  Mistress  Congreve !  Where  are  you,  where  are 
you?  "  Kitty's  impatient  voice  rang  out  nearer  now. 

"  Pam,  sweetheart,  tell  me  all — all !  "  whispered 
the  eager  lover. 

"  What  d'ye  mean  ?  "  she  gasped ;  "  what  do  you 
want  me  to  tell  you  ?  All  ?  " 

"  Only  what  or  who  'tis  stands  between  you  and 
me!" 

"You  want  I  should  tell  you  the  truth?"  She 
was  quivering  in  the  clasp  of  his  arms  now. 

"  Aye,  so — tell  me  ?  "  And  the  caress  of  his  voice 
was  a  thousand  times  more  dear  than  the  caress  of 
his  touch. 


276          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Suppose  I  told  thee  I  was  false,  a  trickster,  and 
a  counterfeit  ? "  she  asked  feverishly,  her  fingers 
twisting  on  his  sleeve. 

"  I'd  not  believe  it,"  answered  he  gently.  "  Put 
off  thy  whims,  my  own,  and  tell  me  the  whole  truth." 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  "  I'll  tell  you.  But  not  now ! 
not  now ! "  The  elfin  disposition  in  her  claimed  its 
turn,  and  split  her  mood  and  her  resolve  in  two. 
She  tore  herself  free  from  him,  laughing.  "  Laugh ! 
Be  gay!  'Tis  Christmas  Eve.  One  must  be  happy 
while  one  can !  " 

"  But,  Pam,  your  promise  ?  "  said  the  Duke  re- 
proachfully, yet,  perhaps,  half  understanding  the 
change  in  her  demeanour. 

"  Aye,"  she  responded.  "  I  promise  you — to- 
morrow— I'll  tell  you  all — you'll  ever  care  to  know 
of  the  stroller." 

"  To-morrow,"  he  repeated  after  her.  And  then 
in  flung  Kitty,  chattering  about  the  mistletoe,  and 
who  was  to  hang  it,  when,  and  where;  and  the  story 
of  the  secret  panel,  and  the  Harlowe  jewels,  and  the 
key,  while  the  Duke's  stolen  glances  were  telling  Pam 
that  these  were  to  be  reset  for  her. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE    SILVER    KEY 


^"       """^HE    night    had    come;    the    night    before 

Christmas.      There  were   sounds   of   lutes 

and  fiddles  being  tuned;  savoury  odours 

from  the  kitchen;  light  laughter  and  voices  tinkling 

with  joyous  anticipation  in  both  hall  and  scullery 

— for  Pamela's  orders  were,  as  much  joy  in  one  place 

as  in  the  other;  cakes  and  ale  everywhere,  and  ample 

provision  for  all  who  might  come. 

Kitty  now  stood,  or  rather  pranced  before  her 
mirror,  while  her  mother  and  her  maid  combined 
were  pinching  out  her  frills  and  furbelows. 

"Lud!"  cried  she,  "but  both  Toby  and  Lord 
Rawdon  '11  find  me  amazin'  handsome  this  evening. 
If  I  know  not  how  to  drive  the  pair  into  a  frenzy, 
then  is  not  my  name  Kitty  Trevor !  " 

"  Zounds,  minx,  hold  thy  tongue ! "  exclaimed 
Lady  Betty,  "  and  quit  the  mirror,  if  but  for  a  mo- 
ment, that  I  may  see  how  sits  my  bodice !  " 

277 


278  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Ta !  ta !  ta !  vex  not  thy  soul  over  the  sit  of  any- 
thing, Betty,  so  long  as  'tis  Mistress  Pamela's  ward- 
robe you've  to  contend  with!  Never  in  my  life  saw 
I  such  monstrous  fine  raiment !  Such  hoops,  and  pet- 
ticoats, and  fichus,  and  sleeves — hanging  down  the 

length  of  a  French  ell — and "  Kitty  paused  for 

breath. 

Betty's  retort  was  not  long  delayed.  "  For  Gad's 
sake,  let  me  not  hear,  whichever  way  I  turn,  naught 
but  Mistress  Pamela  !  Mistress  Pamela !  I'm  sick  of 
it,  d'ye  hear,  cousin  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure,  Betty,  my  love,"  put  in  Lady  Trevor 
soothingly,  "  you  should  not  feel  so  against  our 
hostess,  when  she  provides  most  splendid  entertain- 
ment for  us  and  all  our  friends !  " 

"  Our  hostess !  Our  fiddlestick !  as  my  Uncle 
Thomas  would  say,"  Betty  answered  tartly,  her 
mouth  full  of  pins.  "  This  mummer  may  count  it 
an  honour,  aye,  miss ! "  tweaking  Kitty's  ear,  and 
sticking  her  woman  with  a  pin  in  the  shoulder,  "  an 
honour  that  gentlefolk  condescend  to  remain  her 
guests.  Tell  me,  I  pray,  whichever  of  you  can,  who 
is  Pamela  Congreve?  Eh?  " 

At  this  very  moment  the  doors  of  the  boudoir 
swung  open  to  admit  Sir  Thomas,  Lord  Charteris, 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  279 

and  Lord  Rawdon,  come  to  escort  the  ladies  down 
to  the  Hall,  as  it  was  now  the  hour  when  the  festiv- 
ities were  to  begin. 

"Why,  Betty,  Betty,  niece,"  said  Sir  Thomas, 
"  Pamela  Congreve's  the  wittiest,  prettiest,  merriest, 
sweetest  lady  ever  I  set  eyes  upon.  Eh,  Charteris, 
Rawdon,  bear  me  out,  is  it  not  so?  " 

"  I  asked  not  what  she  is,  but  who  ?  "  reiterated 
Betty  scornfully.  "  Who's  her  father,  or  her  mother? 
Whence  comes  she?  What's  her  past?  Eh,  tell 
me  that,  if  you  can,  anybody  ? "  Her  brilliant 
eyes  fastened  upon  Charteris.  Lady  Betty  was 
making  a  point  hitherto  unthought  of,  and  she 
knew  it. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  as  the  fact  struck 
home  to  each  one  there,  that  the  question  was  unan- 
swerable. 

The  one  who  could  have  made  the  most  adequate 
reply  merely  laughed  ironically,  took  Betty's  fan 
from  her  willing  hand,  and  said :  "  Gad,  Lady  Betty, 
why  is't  that  a  lady  of  ton  like  you  busies  herself 
with  the  origin  of — a  Pamela — Congreve?  "  His 
eyes  said  far  more  than  his  words,  as  he  bent  them 
upon  Sir  Thomas'  niece. 

"  'Tis  true  enough,  Lord  Charteris ;   and,  after 


280  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

all,  I  suppose  these  players  are  never  anyone  in  par- 
ticular," exclaimed  Lady  Trevor  airily. 

"  Not  until  the  public  makes  them  so,"  laughed 
Charteris,  as  he  left  the  room,  with  Betty  on  his  arm. 

"  The  vagabond !  even  if  he  is  an  earl ! "  cried 
Kitty.  "  To  speak  so  of  Mistress  Pamela — and  she 
so  fine  of  spirit,  manners,  soul,  that  Charteris  is  too 
much  of  a  puppet  to  know  it.  Faugh!  were  I  a 
gentleman  I'd  strike  him  in  the  face,  and  fight  him 
in  Hyde  Park  to-morrow.  Betty,  too!  were  she  a 
man  I'd  pinch  her  for  her  'Who  is  Pamela  Con- 
greve?  '  "  mimics  she. 

"  Tush,  Kitty,"  said  her  father.  "  Mix  not  your 
voice  in  such  a  matter.  We  know  not,  as  Betty  says, 
the  antecedents  of  Mistress  Congreve ;  and — er " 

"  And— er "  echoed  Kitty  wilfully.  "  And— 

er Well,  dad,  what's  antecedents?  Tell  me  that ! 

And  what  value  have  they?  Lord  Charteris  has  'em 
hangin'  in  rows  on  his  castle  walls,  and  every  one  in 
pawn  to  the  Jews!  What  have  his  lordship's  ante- 
cedents done  for  him?  He's  a  disgraceful  gamester, 
and  only  here  because  he  has  not  a  shillin'  to  his 
name.  Tis  not  for  nothing  his  man  Pink  comes 
courtin'  my  woman.  I  know  my  Lord  Charteris! 
Courtin'  Cousin  Betty  these  two  years,  and  no  speech 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  281 

of  weddin'-bells  yet ;  adoring  Mistress  Congreve  with 
his  glances,  and  backbitin'  her  to  suit  your  niece  and 
her  fortune !  I  tell  you  roundly,  Sir  Thomas  Trevor, 
I'd  rather  be  Pamela,  with  no  antecedents  at  all, 
than  this  gentleman  who's  got  'em  by  the  dozens. 
Your  arm,  Lord  Rawdon !  "  Out  flounced  the  mad- 
cap, leaving  her  parents  so  amazed  that  neither  of 
them  found  tongue  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 

The  great  Hall  was  a  rare  sight.  Candles  glim- 
mered from  every  sconce  and  bracket,  up  and  down 
the  grand  staircase  and  the  long  wainscoted  room, 
while  ropes  of  holly  were  festooned  between  the  oaken 
pillars  supporting  the  groined  roof,  and  twined 
about  the  balustrade  of  the  stair  and  the  wide  upper 
landing.  Scarfs  of  India  silk  in  gayest  hues  were 
hung  on  the  walls,  and  garlands  of  Christmas  roses 
were  pinned  on  these.  The  blazing  pudding  had 
been  fetched  and  eaten ;  the  Yule  log  trundled  in  and 
lighted;  the  company  was  all  assembled;  the  lutes 
and  viols  played;  sweet  ladies  and  brave  gentlemen 
awaited  the  signal  for  the  dance  to  begin,  and  the 
punch  to  be  carried  in,  when  out  called  Lady  Betty,  in 
a  most  soft  voice  now,  since  Charteris  had  not  left 
her  side  this  past  half-hour,  "  The  mistletoe !  the 
mistletoe !  Who's  to  hang  it  ?  Hath  it  been  forgot  ?  " 


282  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Aye,  aye,  the  mistletoe !  "  said  Pamela,  catching 
up  the  branch  that  Harlowe  handed  her. 

"  Mistress  Congreve's  to  hang  it  herself,  of 
course,"  said  Kitty,  motioning  to  Toby,  who  lurked 
half-obscured  behind  a  suit  of  armour,  and  quaking 
whenever  Sir  Thomas  passed  his  way. 

"  Nay,"  whispered  Toby  to  Kitty,  "  I'll  not  adven- 
ture from  this  until  your  father's  taken  thrice  of 
punch ;  then,  mayhap,  I'll  dare !  " 

"  Surely,  Pamela,  you're  to  hang  the  mistletoe," 
said  Harlowe  in  a  low  voice,  as  he  placed  the  ladder 
which  one  of  the  servants  had  ready. 

"  Where  is  it  to  be  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  In  the  old  place,  if  you  will,"  he  answered.  "  I 
remember  when  I  was  a  boy,  'twas  always  placed 
just  above  the  secret  panel  in  the  rear  of  the  staircase. 
Will  you?" 

She  mounted  the  ladder,  and  hung  the  bough 
with  its  bunches  of  glistening  berries ;  daintily  de- 
scending, and  ignoring  his  outstretched  hand. 

"  Tell  me  of  that  secret  panel,  pray  ?  "  said  Char- 
teris  in  an  idle  tone.  "  It  sounds  interesting." 

"  'Tis  here,  look  you,"  replied  Harlowe  cour- 
teously. "  The  crack  is  barely  perceptible.  'Tis  but 
to  press  it — so — it  flies  open;  the  keyhole  visible;  I 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  283 

carry  the  key  here  always — and  Sir  Thomas  has  been 
kind  enough  during  his  occupancy  of  the  place  to 
allow  the  family  jewels  to  remain  there.  It  is  ac- 
counted there's  no  safer  spot  in  all  England,"  and 
the  Duke  laughed,  as  he  replaced  the  panel. 

"  Since  no  other  key  will  open  it,  it  must  be 
safe  from  any  thief ! "  said  Charteris,  turning  to 
Betty. 

"  If  any  be  caught  in  my  house,"  cried  Pam,  "  I'll 
pull  every  soul  in  the  county  out  o'  bed  with  this ! " 
She  touched  the  rope  hanging,  looped,  on  the  newel- 
post,  from  the  great  bell  above  their  heads. 

Pam's  eyes  danced;  it  was  with  rare  delight  that 
she  had  uttered  these  two  words,  "  my  house."  She 
stood  there  in  her  lover's  house,  he  at  her  side ;  lights, 
warmth,  music,  wine,  people,  cheer,  and  brilliancy 
surrounding  them.  She  was  taking  her  farewell  of 
all  the  sweetness  of  the  world,  and  she  knew  it,  and 
drank  deep — for  Pam  thought  that  when  to-morrow 
came,  and  she  told  her  all  to  Harlowe,  the  end  would 
come. 

As  all  this  and  more  flashed  through  her  mind,  she 
observed  that  Charteris  was  watching  the  Duke;  he 
now  turned  from  Lady  Betty  to  him,  and  said  care- 
lessly, "  A  pretty  conceit,  too ;  the  family  jewels  in 


284  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

the  old  family  hall — awaiting,  Duke,"  he  added  with 
meaning,  "  a  fair  new  duchess  to  wear  'em !  " 

"  Hear !  hear !  hear !  "  echoed  up  and  down,  and 
Lady  Betty  smiled  joyfully. 

"  Nor  would  they  wait  an  hour,"  replied  Harlowe, 
bowing  low  to  Pamela,  "  had  I  my  will  and  way." 

"  Gad ! "  cried  Sir  Thomas,  now  warming  with  the 
punch,  "  a  Duchess  of  Harlewe's  the  only  thief  '11 
ever  steal  those  gems  from  their  stronghold,  I  swear! 
And  if  I  had  my  way  she'd  pilfer  'em  out  this  very 
night  and  give  us  all  cause  to  toast  the  fairest  face 
in  England ! " 

"  Toast  it  now ! "  exclaimed  the  Duke,  raising 
his  goblet.  "  Here's  to  Mistress  Pamela  Con- 
greve ! " 

"  Pamela !  Pamela !  Pamela !  Congreve !  "  cried 
all. 

"  The  fairest  face  and  the  bravest  grace ! "  said 
Beauclerc,  last  but  not  least,  touching  his  glass  to 
Pam's  and  Dudleigh's  both. 

Then  Kitty  whispered  imperiously  to  her  baronet, 
"  Toby,  come  out !  " 

"  Wait,  Kitty,  until  your  father's  had  one  more 
glass,"  trembled  he. 

"  Then,  sir,  I  say  yes  on  the  instant  to  Rawdon !  " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  285 

"  Oh,  I'll  come  out.  Lud !  what  'tis  to  be  a  man 
at  beck  of  ladies'  whims ! "  He  emerged  only  to  be 
dragged  by  Kitty  straight  up  to  the  mistletoe. 

"  The  mistletoe !  the  mistletoe ! "  all  shouted,  in- 
cluding Sir  Thomas,  who  was  now  jocund  and  hilari- 
ous. "  A  kiss !  a  kiss !  a  kiss ! "  In  this  cry  Sir 
Thomas  joins  heartily,  not  yet  perceiving  who  was 
paired  with  his  child. 

But  Kitty  soon  enlightened  him.  "  Eh,  dad,  look ! 
'tis  Sir  Toby !  He  and  I  have  been  drinking  your 
health  yonder  behind  one  of  my  '  antecedents  ' !  " 

"  What,  Miss  Minx !  Zounds !  Sir !  "  Up  went 
the  baronet's  ready  cane,  but  Kitty  caught  it  in  mid- 
air and  whipped  it  from  him. 

"  A  kiss !  a  kiss !  a  kiss !  "  now  came  with  redoubled 
ardor  from  everyone. 

"  Nay ! "  cried  Toby,  cutting  nimbly  across  the 
hall.  "  No  kiss.  Sir  Thomas,  your  servant,  sir,  I'm 
gone ! " 

"  No,  you  ain't ! "  and  Kitty  cleverly  encircled  his 
throat  with  the  crook  of  her  father's  cane,  and 
brought  him  back,  while  Pamela,  taking  a  hand  of 
each,  joined  them,  and  thrust  the  pair  straight  into 
Sir  Thomas'  arms. 

"  Ah,  Thomas,"  she  pleaded,  with  sweet  mockery 


286  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

of  remembrance,  "  thee  will  not  deny  Pastorella  this  ? 
Thee  will  favour  dear,  valiant  Sir  Toby's  suit,  thee 
will,  eh,  Thomas?" 

"  Gad!  "  cried  the  baronet.  "  It's  Christmas  Eve, 
and  no  time  of  year  to  refuse  any  gift,  even  a  fool 
for  a  son-in-law.  I  suppose,  Kitty,  you  can  take  him, 
if  he  doesn't  shake  to  pieces  in  terror  afore  he  fetches 
you  to  church." 

"  Not  t — t — terror,  Sir  Thomas,"  stammered 
Toby.  "  'T — 't — 'tis  joy  I'm  a-quakin'  with." 

"  The  kiss !  the  kiss !  the  kiss !  "  they  all  cried  once 
more. 

But  Miss  Romp  and  her  prize  had  made  off  be- 
hind their  armour,  and  Betty  said  thoughtfully : 

"  I  wonder  who  will  be  first  caught  under  the 
mistletoe,  since  Kitty  and  Toby  have  failed  us." 

"  No  matter  for  it,"  said  Pam,  "  'tis  time  for  our 
dancing.  Partners  !  partners !  Fiddle  away,  tarry 
not !  All !  All !  the  Christmas  dance,  for  look  you 
at  the  clock,  'tis  already  hard  upon  the  small 
hours." 

It  was  a  pretty  dance  with  ladies  in  their  hoops 
and  panniers  swirling  down  the  middle,  whilst  gentle- 
men, with  upraised  rapiers  interlocked,  made  an  ar- 
bour for  their  passage.  Loud  twanged  the  fiddles ;  the 


PAMELA    CONCRETE  287 

voice  of  Godfrey  Gimbart  quavered  off  the  figures, 
whilst  Lady  Trevor,  Betty,  Kitty,  Meg,  Pam,  and  a 
score  of  country  beauties  flung  and  tripped;  and 
Harlowe,  Charteris,  Beauclerc,  Sir  Thomas,  Toby, 
Heathcote,  Twiss,  and  two  dozen  more  of  gentlemen 
Itnocked  shining  weapons  together  above  their  pow- 
dered heads. 

There  was  quip  and  jest  and  rhyme  and  reason 
too ;  a  slip  upon  the  waxed  floor  by  Lord  Charteris, 
who  thus  jostled  against  Harlowe,  his  neighbour;  a 
thousand  pardons ;  a  tangling  up  of  sashes  and  tassels 
between  these  two  gallants ;  a  stoppage  of  the  dance 
for  just  a  moment. 

But  not  another  eye  there  saw  what  Pamela  saw — 
my  Lord  Charteris  snatch  and  snap  the  silver  key 
from  the  Duke's  fob,  and  thrust  it  in  his  own  waist- 
coat pocket,  salaaming  to  the  ground,  hand  on  heart, 
when  he  had  accomplished  the  deed. 

Her  brain  throbbed  madly :  her  first  impulse  was  to 
cry  out  and  denounce  him  then  and  there;  but  some- 
thing held  her  quiet;  and  her  gaiety  now  took  on  a 
deeper  dye,  her  colour  turned  a  redder  rose  in  either 
cheek,  her  breath  came  quicker  yet  as  she  wondered 
what  to  do,  and  how  to  prevent  the  theft  she  felt  was 
Charteris'  intention. 


288          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

It  would  be  of  no  avail,  she  argued,  to  call  atten- 
tion to  the  fact  that  the  key  was  missing  from  its 
owner's  fob.  There  would  be  a  search,  no  doubt,  and 
nothing  found ;  and  there  it  would  end ;  to  impart  her 
knowledge  to  anyone  Pam  was  afraid,  with  the 
thought  of  Charteris'  wrath  when  he  learned  who 
had  spied  him.  While  she  danced  away  she  deter- 
mined that  she  alone  must  keep  a  watch  when  all  had 
gone  to  bed — for  instinct  warned  her  that  the  Earl 
would  not  long  delay  in  the  carrying  out  of  his  de- 
sign. It  was  she  must  intercept  and  thwart  him 
of  his  purpose  without  noise,  suspicion,  or  outcry; 
but  there  was  a  revolt  in  her  spirit  against  such  deal- 
ing with  this  man;  she  shrank  from  it  as  from  a 
taint,  yet  saw  no  other  fashion  of  preventing  the 
crime. 

The  last  cup  of  flip  was  now  drained,  and  Sir 
Thomas  cried  gaily,  "  To  bed !  to  bed !  Who'd 
have  bright  eyes  and  rosy  cheeks  to  greet  the 
Christmas  morn,  let  them  now  up  and  woo  sweet 
slumber ! " 

Beauclerc  stood  near  Pamela;  he  looked  at  her 
anxiously  before  she  was  aware  of  his  scrutiny. 
"  Something  troubles  my  lady  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  Nay,"  she  answered  with  a  start.     "  Nay,  Mr. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  289 

Beauclerc  " — now  noting  the  pain  in  his  face — "  what 
jcould  trouble  Pamela  Congreve  to-night  ?  'Tis  some- 
how, I  think,  her  zenith,  is't  not  so  ?  " 

"  Say  not  that,"  returned  he  instantly,  "  for  it  im- 
plies that  henceforth  she'll  decline,  and  that  can- 
not be!" 

"  Who  knows  ?  "  she  laughed  back  at  him,  as  he 
made  way  for  Harlowe,  who  was  bringing  her  her 
candle. 

"  To  bed !  to  bed ! "  still  cried  Sir  Thomas,  up  on 
the  landing,  marshalling  those  that  followed  him,  his 
arm  linked  in  his  lady's,  Kitty  before  them,  and  Betty 
all  smiles  with  Charteris  carrying  her  candlestick  for 
her  to  her  very  door. 

"  Pam,"  said  the  Duke,  amid  Sir  Thomas'  hub- 
bub of  "  Good-nights  "  and  "  Happy  dreams,"  as  the 
footmen  blew  out  the  lights,  leaving  only  the  blaze  of 
the  logs  upon  the  hearth.  "  Pam,  linger  a  second  to 
give  me  good-night,  our  two  selves  alone  together, 
will  you  not,  sweet  ?  " 

She  looked  around;  no  one  was  noticing  them. 
All  the  guests  had  reached  or  were  near  the  top  now, 
chattering  like  magpies  at  the  dawn. 

Pam  herself  was  on  the  second  step.  She  laid  her 
hands  on  his  shoulders  where  he  stood  below  her,  a 


290          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

touch  as  light  as  wind-blown  thistle,  yet  he  felt  it  to 
his  heart's  core. 

"  Good-night,"  she  said  simply,  and  taking  the 
candle  from  him,  she  went  up  and  disappeared. 

All  was  soon  quiet  in  the  Hall — not  a  sound  but 
the  logs  turning  over  and  sputtering ;  the  tick  of  the 
tall  clock  sounding  strangely  loud  in  the  silence,  and 
a  cricket  chirping,  hidden  somewhere  in  the  cracks. 

Pam's  room  was  on  the  landing,  and  now  a  figure 
came  there  from  the  rear  part  of  the  house  and 
tapped  gently  at  her  door.  She  opened,  seemingly 
careless,  but  with  traces  of  apprehension  in  her 
aspect.  Godfrey  stood  there,  lantern  in  hand,  his 
pale  face  even  whiter  than  usual. 

"  Godfrey,  lad!  Well,  what  is  it?  Something  of 
import  surely,  or  you'd  not  seek  me  now."  The  boy 
trembled,  and  his  usually  nimble  tongue  faltered. 
"  Godfrey !  "  cried  Pamela  again,  shaking  him  by  the 
arm,  "  you  give  me  prodigious  fears — speak  out, 
lad!" 

"  Mistress,  not  two  hours  since,  just  before  the 
revels  began — as  I  carried  in  the  mistletoe,  I  did  hear 
my  Lord  Charteris " 

"  Aye,  my  Lord  Charteris  ?  "  repeated  she,  the 
sweat  starting  to  her  brow.  "  Go  on." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  291 

"  Telling  that  fine  Lady  Betty  as  he'd  like  to  see 
the  Duke  of  Harlowe  dead ;  as  he'd  no  sort  of  a  mind 
for  fighting  him  and  gettin'  killed  himself,  mayhap ; 
but  there  was  other  methods  of  puttin'  a  gentleman 
into  his  family  vault  than  the  duello ;  and  he'd  ad- 
venture such  for  a  lady  he  loved.  Mistress,  I  swear 
I  heard  it." 

"  Godfrey,  you're  mad !  you're  mad ! "  cried  she, 
thrown  into  a  fever  by  the  thought  of  danger  threat- 
ening her  loved  one. 

"  Nay,  Mistress  Pamela,  and,  more — afore  we 
quitted  town,  I  was  at  the  Tub,  a  vile  tavern  I  knows, 
and  there  I  heard  two  varlets  a-talkin'  low.  Lord 
Charteris  had  promised  'em  a  job,  and  by  their  signs 
I  could  discern  'twas  nothing  short  of  murder ! " 
Godfrey's  eyes  were  almost  starting  from  his  head, 
and  his  knees  trembled  under  him  with  the  excitement 
of  having  such  news  to  impart. 

"  Godfrey,"  said  Pamela  in  a  whisper,  "  to-morrow 
you'll  go  back  to  town  and  haunt  the  place  where 
you  met  these  men,  day  and  night,  d'ye  hear,  boy? 
and  fetch  me  news.  Meantime  to  bed,  and  when 
you've  slept  a  bit,  at  sun-up  away  with  you  to  Lon- 
don, and  the  Tub.  Good-night,  lad — a  faithful  lad 
always ! " 


292          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Swinging  his  lantern,  Godfrey  made  his  way  to  the 
garret  while  his  mistress  retired  into  her  room  to 
compose  herself  as  best  she  might,  and  prepare  for 
that  which  she  believed  was  about  to  happen.  She 
was  not  within  her  chamber,  nor  Godfrey  up  above  in 
his,  any  too  soon  for  the  manoeuvres  of  one  of  the 
guests  of  Harlowe  House. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

BEHOLD,   IT  IS  TO-MORROW 


Y~  ""^HIS  personage  came  swiftly  down  the 
staircase,  his  hand  along  the  balustrade, 
his  brain  keenly  on  the  alert,  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  a  point  below.  Once  down,  he  darted  over 
to  the  secret  panel,  touched  it  open,  pulled  the  silver 
key  from  his  waistcoat  pocket,  fitted  and  turned  it; 
drew  forth  both  hands  full  of  splendid  gems,  set  and 
unset ;  chains  of  sparkling  fire ;  bracelets,  stomachers, 
brooches,  rings,  and  sprays.  These  he  was  bestow- 
ing in  his  pockets  when  Pam's  door  opened.  She 
crept  out  close  to  the  rail,  looked  over  and  beheld  him 
at  his  work. 

Down  the  steps  like  an  arrow  sprung  by  a  strong 
hand,  she  flew  across  to  him  and  "  Lord  Charteris ! 
I've  caught  you !  "  she  whispered. 

"  By  Gad,  Pam  !  you  have !  "  cried  he,  his  voice  low 
but  full  of  joyful  elation.  "  The  mistletoe,  the 

mistletoe!     Sweetheart    of   me!    see!     I    know    why 

293 


294          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

you've  sought  and  caught  me  here.  Oh,  Pam! 
Pam !  "  He  pointed  up  to  where  the  mistletoe  hung 
above  their  heads.  "  You've  but  played  the  coy  to 
whet  my  appetite !  I  needed  it  not !  " 

His  arms  were  closing  about  her  when  she  sprang 
aside. 

"You  thief!"  she  said,  as  she  seized  the  jewels. 
"  Thief,  I  say !  "  and  she  snatched  the  silver  key  from 
his  fingers  too. 

"  Pamela !  "  he  coaxed,  "  I  took  'em  but  to  give  to 
you.  Pam,  you  love  me?  you  must  love  me  or  you 
would  not  have  risked  coming  to  me  now ! "  Again 
he  tried  to  embrace  her,  again  she  would  have  darted 
away  from  him,  but  Charteris  had  her  in  his  grasp. 
"  By  the  Lord  of  heaven ! "  he  cried,  "  you're  mine ! 
I  will  have  you  now !  " 

In  the  struggle  to  free  herself,  Pamela's  hand  fell 
upon  the  bell-rope  caught  on  the  newel-post,  and  she 
pulled  with  all  her  strength. 

Out  clanged  the  bell,  resounding  over  the  still  and 
snow-bound  country-side — waking  every  soul  within 
the  house  and  for  miles  around.  Pamela  broke  from 
her  captor  and  "  Thief ! "  again  she  said,  while  she 
pulled  the  harder  at  the  rope. 

"  Thief !  "  echoed  my  Lord  Charteris  with  his  short 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  295 

cynical  laugh,  pointing  mockingly  at  the  jewels  and 
the  key  she  holds  in  her  gathered-up  nightgown. 
"  Thief,  Pam  ?  Ha !  ha !  ha !  " 

Then  a  sound  above  of  footsteps  hurrying  as  the 
bell  redoubled  its  pealing,  Charteris  having  taken  the 
rope  from  her. 

"  Thief !  Nay,  we  haven't  a  second  to  lose.  Give 
me  yourself  at  once,  your  promise,  and  I'll  invent  a 
tale  of  highwaymen  to  shield  us  both!  If  you  will 
not  " — for  she  shook  her  head  with  emphatic  scorn 
— "  you  stand  there  before  'em  all,  the  thief.  If 
you  dare  attempt  to  fasten  this  on  me " 

"  Well,  what  then  ?  "  she  asked ;  and  now  the  bell 
swung  with  a  mournful  softness  to  its  final  call ;  and 
now  Harlowe's  voice  was  heard  above,  shouting  for 
lights. 

"  Harlowe  shall  know  the  past." 

The  doors  above  were  opening,  and  the  glimmer  of 
the  candles  shone  down. 

"  Which  do  you  choose,  Pam,  quick  ?  "  and  he 
touched  her  hand. 

She  sprang  from  him.  "  Anything  on  earth  but 
your  love.  Anything  on  earth  but  that  he  and  his 
shall  know — what  you  and  I  know !  " 

"The  bell — who  rang  it,  and  wherefore?"  cried 


296          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

the  Duke,  at  this  instant  dashing  out  into  the  cor- 
ridor, most  of  the  household  in  his  wake. 

Lady  Betty  pushing  through  the  press  to  peer  be- 
low and  cry  in  fiendish  glee,  "  Look !  look !  Mistress 
Congreve  in  her  red  satin  nightrail  under  the  mistle- 
toe with  Lord  Charteris !  " 

The  Duke  paused  as  he  reached  the  place  where 
Charteris  stood,  the  rope  within  his  malicious  grasp. 
"  Your  Grace  " — he  murmured  with  averted  eyes  and 
drooping  head,  as  if  in  sorrow  for  a  fault  that  was 
another's. 

"  The  secret  door  open ! "  exclaimed  the  Duke  in 
amazement.  "  The  key?  "  He  fumbled  at  his  fob. 
"Gone!  The  jewels?" 

"  Here,"  said  Pam,  tendering  stones  and  key  as 
well,  while  beneath  her  lids  lay  immeasurable  scorn 
for  the  coward  standing  near  her. 

"  But  where's  the  thief?  "  asked  Harlowe.  "  Es- 
caped, by  Heavens ! " 

"  No,  your  Grace,"  said  she  firmly,  but  with  one 
glance  at  Charteris  to  see  if  at  the  last  he  would  not 
be  a  man  and  speak  out. 

Harlowe  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  his  ruddy 
face  growing  strangely  pale.  "  For  God's  sake !  " 
he  cried,  "  speak  out  the  truth,  one  of  you !  " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  297 

"  Harlowe,"  answered  Charteris  in  a  low  and  hur- 
ried voice,  as  a  gentleman  would  if  caught  in  such  a 
vile  predicament  as  this  which  he  pretended,  "  Pray 
you,  be  lenient ;  she  did  it  for  my  sake." 

"  You  lie !  "  said  Harlowe  quietly.  "  You  stole 
them  yourself ! " 

"  Sir ! "  retorted  the  Earl,  still  calm,  deliberate, 
and  cool,  "  I  leave  it  to  the  lady." 

"Will  your  Grace  count  the  jewels?"  said  Pam- 
ela. 

"  Nay,"  answered  he,  flinging  the  whole  shining 
mass  away  from  him.  "  Pamela  Congreve,  for  the 
love  of  God,  tell  me  what  all  this  means ! " 

"  'Tis  patent,  methinks,"  she  said  in  a  dull  voice ; 
then,  turning  to  the  lad,  "  Go  fetch  my  coach,  God- 
frey— quick,  Jess  girl,  my  duds."  She  faced  Har- 
lowe. "  I'm  leaving  now,  your  Grace,  going  back  to 
town.  Farewell." 

And  then,  without,  the  waits  began  to  sing  a  carol, 
their  pure,  childish  voices  and  the  sacred,  jubilant 
melody  contrasting  strangely  with  the  conflict  and  the 
passionate  agitation  within  the  Hall. 

"  Farewell  ?  Never !  "  replied  he,  catching  at  her 
hands  pitifully.  "  Before  them  all,  Pam,  you're  my 
lady  and  my  love,  even  be  it  true  you  did  this  deed 


298          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

for  love  of  another  man.  To  me  'tis  as  if  you'd  not 
done  it — and  by  Gad !  I  don't  believe  you  did." 

She  smiled  and  shook  her  head,  Charteris'  strange 
handsome  eyes  fixed  uponfher  face. 

"  I'll  never  give  you  up !  "  said  Harlowe. 

"  You  need  not,"  she  replied.  "  'Tis  I  give  up 
you,  and  all  of  this."  She  took  from  her  bosom  the 
deed,  and  set  it  aflame  at  Lady  Betty's  candle,  its 
grey  ash  spilling  to  the  breeze  as  Godfrey  opened  the 
door,  letting  in  on  her  the  first  splendid  beams  of 
Christmas  morning. 

"  You  shall  not  quit  me  thus ! "  panted  Harlowe, 
his  passion  and  his  care  for  her  almost  ungovernable. 

"  Nay,  but  I  will !  "  cried  she,  now  trying  to  laugh. 
"  Back  to  the  playhouse  where  I  belong,  unless  you 
do  prosecute  me  to  make  gossip  for  the  town." 

The  Duke  stood  beside  her;  the  Earl,  serene,  as- 
sured, stepped  in  between  the  two. 

"  Pamela,"  he  said,  "  I'll  go  with  you." 

She  turned  and  looked  into  his  eyes. 

Every  soul  there  stood  spellbound  with  the  glance, 
even  Betty's  paroxysms  of  hate  and  rage,  and  little 
Kitty's  sobs  subsiding. 

"That,"  said  Pam,  "you'll  not.  Godfrey  and 
Heathcote,  lend  me  your  arms.  I'd  not  wet  my  feet 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  299 

in  the  snow.  So  " — as  they  lifted  her  on  their  arras. 
"  Your  Grace,"  she  said,  with  a  curious  halt  in  her 
voice,  glancing  at  the  stream  of  light  from  the  open 
door,  "  behold,  it  is  to-morrow !  " 

And  in  the  new  morning's  light  she  went  her  way. 


CHAPTER    XXIX 

SURREY     BEAUCLERC 

IT  is  a  fact  worth  recording  that  during  the  ten 
minutes  which  passed  between  the  first  call  of 
the   great   bell   from   the   tower   of   Harlowe 
House  and  Pamela's  leaving,  there  was  little  even  of 
exclamation  and  no  interference  of  the  others  be- 
tween these  three,  Pam,  the  Duke,  and  Charteris. 
Even  the  poet  interposed  no  word,  although  he  went 
at  once  to  Pamela's  side  and  did  not  leave  it  until  the 
end. 

And  now  when  she  was  gone,  and  Harlowe  had 
thrown  himself  recklessly  into  his  saddle,  my  Lady 
Betty,  it  may  be  surmised,  uncorked  the  vials  of  her 
voluble  wrath,  and  ere  long  her  screams  could  be 
heard  even  in  the  village.  It  was  nightfall  before  she 
could  be  coaxed  by  aunt,  cousin,  and  maids  out  of  as 
prodigious  a  set  of  the  vapours  as  ever  held  fair  lady 
in  thrall. 

Kitty,  on  beholding  her  cousin  somewhat  quieter, 
300 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  301 

whether  from  lack  of  breath,  or  from  conviction,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  say,  flew  down  to  the  drawing- 
room  and  there  found  Toby  awaiting  her,  with  Mr. 
Beauclerc  endeavouring  to  assuage  the  fears  that 
still  beset  the  youthful  lover. 

Kitty  once  arrived,  the  hunchback  quitted  them 
and  went  without.  It  was  a  heavenly  night ;  the  blue 
vault  hung  low,  full  studded  with  such  luxuriant 
sparkle  of  stars  as  made  upturning  eyes  to  blink ;  a 
little  moon  rode  low  toward  the  horizon.  The  river 
which  cut  the  park  in  two  babbled  a  bit  in  his  ears 
for  all  its  icy  banks,  and  over  the  snowy  reaches,  in 
the  copses  and  in  the  hollows,  gambolled  the  rabbits, 
rustling  the  dry  leaves  as  they  burrowed  for  their 
suppers. 

Beauclerc  wandered  on,  his  hapless  heart  so  full 
of  anguished  reflection  on  the  happenings  of  the 
last  few  hours,  he  did  not  see  a  figure  coming 
towards  him  until  he  stood  face  to  face  with  Char- 
teris. 

The  Earl  greeted  him  with  calculated  courtesy. 
He  had  seen  the  poet  leave  the  house,  and  purposed 
to  encounter  him ;  knowing  well  that  all  he  wished  to 
say  would  find  the  quickest  road  to  Harlowe's  hear- 
ing by  means  of  the  hunchback. 


302          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Well  met,  Mr.  Beauclerc ! "  said  he,  eyeing  the 
other  abstractedly.  "  After  the  unfortunate  events 
of  the  last  four-and-twenty  hours  a  man  seeks  fresh 
air  and  Nature."  Beauclerc  bowed  in  silence. 
"  'Twas  a  damnable  embarrassment  for  me,  by  my 
life,  sir — yet  for  love's  sake  what  will  not  be  counted 
pardonable?  Surely  you — a  versemaker — lay  no 
blame  on  Pamela  for  her  devotion  to  even  so  poor  a 
beggar  as  I  am?  The  child  knew  I'd  lost  my  last 
ha'penny,  and  hoped  to  help  me  win." 

He  believed  that  by  fixing  indelibly  upon  Harlowe's 
mind  the  fact  of  Pamela's  love  for  him,  he  could 
drive  the  Duke  from  the  field,  leaving  it  clear  for  him 
to  possess  her. 

Beauclerc  did  not  move  an  inch,  standing  head  un- 
covered and  partly  bowed.  "  My  lord,"  he  said  at 
last,  "  I  love  this  lady." 

"  You ! "  cried  the  Earl,  aghast,  "  what  can  you 
know  of  love  ?  "  and  his  surprised  eyes  rested  on  the 
humped  back  of  the  other  man.  "  Your  pardon, 
sir !  "  he  added  more  graciously,  but  too  late. 

"  All  that  you  know,  and  more,"  returned  Beau- 
clerc, "  since  the  burden  I  bear  upon  my  back  has 
taught  me  a  lesson  in  love  that  you  will  never  learn — 
renunciation." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  303 

"  Your  pardon,  your  pardon  over  and  over  again, 
Mr.  Beauclerc !  "  exclaimed  Charteris. 

The  poet  bowed.  "  To  resume,"  continued  he,  his 
tone  measured  and  careful ;  "  I  believe  not  that 
Pamela  Congreve  took  the  jewels,  either  for  your 
sake  or  otherwise.  I  believe  you  lie,  my  lord,  and  I 
am  quite  happy  to  have  the  chance  to  tell  you  as 
much  to  your  face.  I  shall  be  at  your  service,  my 
lord,  at  any  time." 

Charteris  laughed.  He  felt  the  splendid  arrogant 
supremacy  and  advantage  of  perfect  build  as  he  did 
so ;  and  thanked  fate  it  was  this  misshapen  gentle- 
man that  challenged  him  instead  of  some  proper  man 
— for  Charteris  had  decided  to  fight  no  duel  until 
Pamela  was  his.  Cagliostro,  indeed,  had  warned  him 
against  them,  and,  superstitious  in  every  fibre,  he 
would  choose  dishonour  rather  than  ignore  the  pre- 
diction. 

He  gave  a  half-compassionate,  half-contemptuous 
laugh. 

"  Look  you,  Mr.  Beauclerc,"  said  he,  "  I  fight  no 
gentleman  that's  handicapped  as  you  are.  Zounds,  sir ! 
do  you  take  me  for  a  coward  to  meet  you  with  such 
odds  against  you?  Sir,  I'd  fight  a  lady  sooner!" 

"  Would  you  ?  "  cried  the  hunchback,  unsheathing. 


304          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  By  the  heaven  above  us,  Charteris,  you'll  fight  me 
on  the  spot,  and  down  your  throat  will  I  drive  the  lie 
that  Pamela  Congreve  stole  for  your  damned  sake! 
Draw,  I  say !  " 

"  Nay,  nay,  Mr.  Beauclerc ! "  repeated  the  Earl, 
this  time  soothingly  as  one  might  address  a  fractious 
junior.  "  I  say  no!  "  he  reiterated,  noting  the  dan- 
gerous fire  in  his  opponent's  eyes. 

"  And  I  say  yes ! "  cried  Beauclerc,  making  a  gal- 
lant pass  of  warning,  as  Charteris  had  not  drawn  his 
rapier  from  its  sheath. 

"  Do  you  ?  "  he  hissed,  with  a  motion  of  unex- 
ampled dexterity  snatching  a  dirk  from  his  hip 
pocket  with  his  right  hand,  and  with  his  left  knock- 
ing the  hunchback's  weapon  from  his  grasp. 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha !  Mr.  Beauclerc,  sir,"  laughed  Char- 
teris with  easy  grace,  now  that  he  held  his  adversary 
at  a  complete  disadvantage,  "  a  truce,  I  pray  you, 
to  anything  approaching  a  disagreement  betwixt  you 
and  me."  Still  grasping  his  dirk  (it  was  one,  the 
poet  notedj  of  a  pattern  similar  to  those  carried  by 
seafaring  folk),  Charteris  stooped,  picked  up  his 
companion's  rapier,  tendered  it  to  him  with  a  low 
bow,  and  added :  "  I  honour  such  a  brave  enemy  as 
you,  Mr.  Beauclerc,  but  I  swear,  when  I  say  a  thing 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  305 

I  mean  it.  I'm  not  fighting  duels,  least  of  all  with 
gentlemen  unequal  to  me  in  physical  strength? 
Your  servant,  sir,  and — I  would  be  friends,  I  do 
assure  you.  I  have  too  few — among  men,"  he  added 
with  a  smile,  "  and  I'd  fain  number  among  them  the 
poet  of  poets." 

"  My  lord,"  returned  the  hunchback,  "  you  have 
worsted  me,  but  only  by  means  of  a  weapon  not  in 
common  use  among  gentlemen.  I  repeat  to  your 
teeth,  when  you  say  Pamela  Congreve  stole  those 
jewels,  either  for  your  sake  or  any  other,  you  lie. 
Now  you  may  kill  me,  if  you  choose." 

"  Nay,  sir,"  replied  the  Earl  good-humouredly. 
"  Not  I.  I  do  regret  your  disbelief,  and  that  you 
will  not  be  my  friend, — or  will  you  yet  ?  "  He  held 
out  his  hand. 

Surrey  Beauclerc  regarded  it  with  a  certain  dis- 
dainful curiosity.  "  Coward !  "  muttered  he.  "  The 
whole  thing  is,  you're  afraid  to  fight,  but  not  afraid 
—to  kill." 

He  turned  on  his  heel,  and  left  Lord  Charteris 
a-standing  in  the  glade  with  the  stars  and  moon  shin- 
ing down  upon  him. 

Both  Beauclerc  and  Charteris  returned  to  London ; 
but  the  Duke  of  Harlowe  was  there  before  them. 


306          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Pamela  had  reached  Sweet-Acre  House  in  advance 
of  him  by  only  about  an  hour. 

He  came  straight  to  her  door,  but  was  refused  ad- 
mission; so  was  Charteris  later;  the  hunchback  was 
the  only  one  of  the  three  who  was  allowed  to  enter. 

For  the  space  of  five  months  it  was  the  same  daily 
story.  Pamela  would  receive  neither  the  Duke  nor 
the  Earl,  but  she  did  receive  Beauclerc. 

The  noblemen  could  see  her  at  their  pleasure  in  the 
playhouse,  which  both  haunted  every  night ;  and  it 
may  be  assumed  there  was  no  lack  of  notes,  letters, 
nosegays,  and  messages  running  between  them  and 
Pamela,  at  least  on  their  side ;  for  she  vouchsafed  no 
answer  to  either  one. 

Harlowe  got  news  of  her  from  Beauclerc ;  his  rival 
had  no  tidings  of  her  at  all,  save  those  Pink  gleaned 
from  Godfrey  at  the  Tub,  and  one  may  be  sure  these 
were  trivial,  unimportant,  and  very  far  from  the 
point. 

In  the  poet's  visits  Pamela  took  a  melancholy  yet 
lively  satisfaction,  for  he  could  and  did  tell  her  of 
Harlowe,  and  well  she  knew  that  no  remotest  doubt 
of  her  honesty  had  ever  been  harboured  for  a  single 
second  in  her  lover's  heart  or  mind. 

It  may  be  argued  by  many  ladies  that  any  gen- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  307 

tleman  who  can  be  held  at  bay  by  the  object  of  his 
adoration  for  the  space  of  five  months — and  the  pair 
both  in  the  same  town — is  a  gentleman  of  but  little 
spirit  and  less  persistency ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
must  not  be  forgotten  that  Pamela  Congreve,  when 
she  declined  to  see  him,  was  in  earnest;  a  state  of 
mind  in  which  few  ladies  in  love  are — when  they  re- 
fuse to  see  their  suitors. 

It  was  now  April,  and  the  Sweet-Acre  never  so 
beautiful  as  in  the  time  when  winter,  hushed  asleep, 
gives  room  for  spring's  awakening. 

She  sat  there  on  the  old  stone  bench  under  the  mul- 
berry tree,  daffodils,  narcissus,  and  violets  abloom 
all  about  the  beds ;  flowers  de  luce  in  amethystine 
royal  colour  decking  down  the  edges  toward  the 
river ;  hawthorn  pink  perfuming  the  way  up  and  over 
the  iron  palisade  guarding  the  garden  on  the  side  of 
Gooseberry  Lane.  Godfrey  Gimbart's  oriel  was  al- 
most closed  with  the  ivy-growth,  since  he  no  longer 
inhabited  the  garret  to  pluck  it  away  to  get  a  glimpse 
of  Pamela. 

It  was  the  same  spot  where  both  Harlowe  and  the 
poet  had  first  had  speech  with  Pam,  but  since  she  had 
acquired  the  right  to  its  occupancy  there  were  some 
changes  to  her  credit,  of  clear  paths  and  trimmed 


308          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

undergrowth;  otherwise  Sweet-Acre  remained  the 
same.  Its  broad  stone  wall,  mossy  and  living  with 
small  ferns  and  grasses  in  the  chinks,  ran  from  the 
buttery  straight  down  to  the  Thames  edge,  and  over 
it  hung  the  large,  fair,  thick-leaved  branches  of  the 
trees ;  at  the  garden  side  the  grounds  swelled  up  to 
meet  it,  while  at  the  lane  side  it  sloped  away  so  that 
it  must  be  a  tall  man  who  could  look  over. 

Such  was  not  the  hunchback ;  so  he  came  in  by  the 
postern  opened  to  him  by  Jess,  and  there,  sitting  on 
the  bench,  he  found  Pamela. 

She  did  not  see  or  hear  his  approach,  so  that  he 
could  pause  and  take  his  fill  of  gazing  at  her.  He 
noted,  with  anxious  eyes,  that  she  lacked  the  splendid 
colour  which  usually  flushed  her  cheeks ;  there  were 
dark  rings  about  her  eyes  and  a  look  of  weary  wist- 
fulness  in  her  countenance  that  was  foreign  to  the 
laughing  aspect  she  commonly  presented  to  the  world 
at  least.  Her  hands,  he  observed,  held  listlessly 
clasped  above  her  head,  were  thin,  the  blue  veins  shin- 
ing in  them  and  her  whole  attitude  was  that  of  one  no 
longer  in  robust  health.  With  a  pang  of  which  he 
could  hardly  explain  the  cause  Beauclerc  stepped  for- 
ward and  saluted  her. 

"  Ah,    Mr.    Beauclerc,    sir,    good-morning ! "    she 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  309 

cried,  fine  roses  growing  now  in  her  cheeks,  but  not  for 
him ;  the  hunchback  knew  well  that  half  his  welcome 
at  Sweet-Acre  House  was  due  to  the  fact  that  he 
brought  the  mistress  tidings  of  one  for  whom  she 
cared;  nor  did  he  resent  or  repine  at  this,  in  the 
loyalty  of  his  generous  soul.  "  You're  from  the 
coffee-house,  I  dare  swear!"  she  added,  as  he  just 
touched  her  extended  fingers  with  his  lips.  "  All 
night  at  the  table — and  how  much  did  you  win  ?  " 

"  No,  by  your  leave,  I'm  not  from  the  club,  and  I 
spent  last  night  in  my  bed  most  proper;  but  ere  I 
entered  it  I  was  the  whole  evening  with  Harlowe  at 
his  house." 

Pam  was  silent ;  she  clasped  her  hands  across  her 
knees  and  drew  her  feet  up  on  the  rough  rung  of  the 
bench.  There  was  a  hushed  expectancy  in  her  air, 
but  no  question  on  her  lips. 

"  Mistress,"  continued  the  poet,  "  the  Duke  is  like 
to  go  lunatic,  I  swear,  if  you  persist  in  so  denying 
him." 

"  Nay,"  answered  she,  smiling,  "  nay,  nay,  gentle- 
men lose  not  their  wits  in  such  poor  behalf  as  mine, 
Beauclerc.  Besides  what  will  it  avail  Harlowe  for 
me  to  see  him  ?  " 

"  It  would  give  him  hope,  happiness,"  returned  he. 


310          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  No,"  said  she,  "  neither.  I  am  minded  never  to 
marry  any  man.  I  cannot ! "  she  exclaimed  with  a 
strange  intensity,  rising  and  beginning  to  pace  up 
and  down  the  box-lined  path. 

"  Listen,"  said  he,  not  moving  to  follow  her,  "  'tis 
a  most  holy  estate  and  so  full  of  joy  and  peace  and 
happiness  as  that,  with  love  on  either  side,  Pamela, 
it  must  give  you  all  you  crave." 

"  What  do  I  crave?  "  laughed  she,  coming  to  a 
sudden  standstill  before  him.  "  Pray,  Sir  Oracle, 
that  prates  so  pat  of  marriage  joys,  tell  me  that! 
And  also  why  you  go  not  and  have  banns  read  for 
yourself  and  some  dear  beloved  Fair?  " 

"  What  do  you  crave?  You'd  have  me  tell  you, 
Pam?" 

"  Aye,"  she  answered,  "  that  I  would." 

"  All  that  Harlowe  can  give,"  he  said  simply,  but 
not  looking  at  her.  "  And  why  I  don't  marry  myself, 
you'd  know  that,  Pamela,  too  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,"  she  answered  lightly  and  carelessly. 

"  Because,  dear,  the  one  lady  I  love  would  not  look 
at  such  as  I  am." 

"  And  you  love  some  lady  ?  "  she  asked  wonder- 
ingly,  the  ideas  of  love  and  Beauclerc  not  easily  ad- 
justing themselves  in  her  mind. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  311 

"  I  do,"  he  replied. 

"  And  who  is  she  ?  "  Pamela  went  on,  unconsciously 
cruel  in  her  superficial  speculation. 

"  Pam,  dear,"  he  said,  very  low,  but  now  rising  and 
standing  before  her,  "  I  love  you!  " 

"  Surrey  Beauclerc !  No !  no !  no !  "  Her  eyes  were 
frightened  and  her  whole  soul  in  a  state  of  strange 
revolt ;  she  was  one  of  those  creatures  who,  loving  one 
man,  hold  themselves  desecrated  if  another  speaks  of 
love  to  them. 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes,  my  sweetest  heart,"  he  answered 
earnestly.  "  It  is  too  true.  I  thought  you  knew  it 
— everyone  else  does.  And  it  is  my  one  drop  of  hap- 
piness to  have  told  you — I  wanted  to  tell  you — Pam, 
you'll  forgive  me?  " 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  "  there  is  nothing  to  for- 
give! You  are  the  noblest  of  gentlemen  and  of 
friends.  You!  that  always  come  pleading  for 
another ! " 

"  Aye,"  he  said,  "  Pam,  since  God  Almighty  set  me 
out  of  the  race  with  this,"  and  he  glanced  ruefully 
at  his  hump,  "  what  can  I  do  to  pleasure  her  I  wor- 
ship but  further  the  suit  of  him  that  is — God  help 
me !  worthy  of  her !  " 

"  Ah !  "  she  sighed. 


312          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Pam,  do  I  not  love  thee  ?  Say  it,  sweetheart,  say 
it  once — Surrey,  I  know  you  love  me." 

"  Surrey,"  said  she  very  low,  "  I  do  know  you  love 
me,  but  I  wish  to  Heaven  it  were  some  other  lady." 

"  Not  I !  Better  you,  hopeless,  than  any  other." 
He  took  a  turn  away  from  her  toward  the  river.  He 
stopped  a  bit  by  the  edge  of  the  water,  and  then  came 
back.  She  held  a  new-plucked  flower  de  luce  in  her 
hand  when  he  returned,  and  she  fixed  it  in  his  button- 
hole. 

"  A  royal  knight,"  said  she,  smiling,  "  the  royalest 
of  all,  since  if  a  man  give  his  life — which  is  his  love 
— for  his  friend,  he  can  do  no  more.  I  am  proud  of 
such  a  thing  as  you  have  told  me  this  morning — and, 
Surrey,"  she  added  with  a  curious  fall  to  her  voice, 
"  my  time  is  short ;  I  know  it  here  in  my  heart.  I 
shall  not  be  troubling  anyone  much  longer.  Life  is 
too  strong  and  too  enticing  and  too  sweet  for  me. 
Death  would  be  the  better  choice." 

"  Hush,  for  God's  sake,  Pam !  If  I  may  make 
bold,  here's  Harlowe  a-killing  himself  for  you  daily. 
Why,  in  the  name  of  Heaven — for  he  is  dear  to  you — 
do  you  not  say  him  yes  ?  " 

She  laughed. 

"Ah,  poet,  dreamer,  romance-maker!  hark!  there 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  313 

are  things  so  inscrutably  bitter  one  may  not  speak  of 
them."  Then  Pamela  laughed  merrily.  "  I  swear, 
though,  I'll  see  the  Duke,  to  please  you.  Yes,  I 
must  see  him  just  once.  By  Heaven!  What  say 
you  to  a  supper  with  his  Grace  and  Charteris  and 
you  and  all  the  rest  to  make  merry?  We'll  have  it 
set  out  here  in  the  garden,  and  you  shall  be  master  of 
the  revels  and  sit  at  my  left,  and  Peter  Twiss  with 
Meg  and  Heathcote  beside  him,  eh?  "  she  asked,  look- 
ing at  his  serious  face.  "  Shall  we  ?  " 

"  If  you  will,"  he  answered,  "  but  why  bring  Char- 
teris to  it — he  that  did  you  foul  wrong,  Pam,  at 
Christmas  time?  " 

"  It  is  my  whim.  Women  are  made,  Beauclerc, 
not  of  dust,  as  'tis  said,  but  of  whims,  caprices, 
fancies,  and  these  are  oozing  out  of  'em  at  every 
pore,  every  hour  of  the  twenty-four ! " 

Her  laughter  was  half  wild,  her  mirth  neighbour 
to  tears,  but  the  listener  had  no  power  to  pry  behind 
it ;  all  he  could  do  was  to  be  thankful  that  at  last 
Pamela  had  said  she  would  see  Harlowe.  Armed  with 
this  news,  he  left  her  and  went  to  seek  the  Duke. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

ON  TOP  OF  THE  GAEDEN  WALL 

BEAUCLERC  found  Harlowe  not  far  off  at 
the  Bedford,  and  joined  him  at  one  of  the 
tables. 

"  Sir,  I  am  newly  from  Sweet- Acre  House,"  he  said, 
his  voice  quivering  just  a  little.  "  I  have  seen  Mis- 
tress Congreve ! " 

"  Oh,  Surrey,  'tis  you  who  have  always  seen  Mis- 
tress Congreve !  "  returned  the  Duke.  "  Well,  how  is 
she?" 

"  Not  too  well." 
"What!" 

"  Let's  out  by  the  river's  bank,  Harlowe ;  I  have 
something  to  tell  you." 

When  they  were  pacing  up  and  down  by  the 
Thames,  arm  in  arm,  "  Delay  not,  what  is't?  "  in- 
quired the  Duke. 

"  'Tis  this ;  I  fear  me,  Pamela  is  going  into  some 
sort  of  a  decline !  'Pon  honour,  sir,  she  has  lost  flesh, 

314 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  315 

and  there's  that  look  in  her  eyes  as  if  they  saw  into 
futurity.  Harlowe,  the  cause  of  it  is  her  estrange- 
ment from  you,  I  am  positive.  You  must  see  her  other 
than  at  long  range  from  the  pit  to  the  stage.  There's 
naught  else  in  this  world,  Harlowe,  can  fetch  our  lady 
from  her  miserable  estate  save  the  solace  of  your  min- 
istrations." 

The  Duke  dropped  his  companion's  arm,  and  by 
a  common  impulse  both  men  stopped  short  in  their 
walk. 

"  Beauclerc,"  said  Harlowe,  at  last,  "  what  manner 
of  man  are  you  that  you  can  thus  counsel  a  rival?  " 

"  The  manner  of  man  that's  marred,  and  that  loves 
the  happiness  of  her  he  adores  better  than  any  joy 
for  himself — that  is  all.  I  swear  I  could,  although  I 
love  you  as  my  friend,  stick  you  through  the  heart 
here  as  we  stand,  save  that  by  so  doing  I  know  I'd 
stab  her,  too." 

The  Duke  faced  the  hunchback,  and  placed  a  hand 
on  each  of  his  low  shoulders.  "  If  the  Creator  mal- 
treated your  body,  he  made  it  up  to  you  in  your  soul. 
Gallant  of  gallants,  friend  of  friends !  "  He  looked 
long  and  earnestly  into  the  poet's  beautiful  eyes; 
then  turned  away  with  a  sigh. 

Beauclerc  echoed  it. 


316  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

The  Duke  sat  down  on  a  pile  of  logs.  "  Surrey," 
said  he  quietly,  "  do  you  know  I've  made  up  my  mind 
to  go  abroad? — off  to  France." 

"  No." 

"  Yes.  Pamela  says  me  nay  at  every  turn.  She 
will  not  receive  me;  'tis  useless  trying  longer;  for 
all  my  protestations  of  fidelity,  my  assurances  of  faith 
in  her  integrity — as  to  that  cursed  matter  of  the 
jewels  at  Christmas-tide — she  gives  no  answer.  She 
hath  told  me  more  than  once  there's  something  stands 
between  us.  By  Gad,  sir !  I  believe  that  something's 
the  Earl  of  Charteris !  and  if  she  loves  him,  well,  I'm 
better  out  of  England — and  so  is  he !  " 

The  poet  hesitated ;  he  sat  down  upon  the  logs,  too, 
and  his  gaze  rested  on  the  sullen,  sluggish  waters  lap- 
ping up  the  shore,  the  mist  lying  thick  and  mingling 
with  their  own  grey  line.  He  weighed  his  situation 
with  an  unerring  calm ;  knew  that  by  one  word  he 
might  urge  the  Duke  to  an  exile ;  knew  that  Pamela 
despised  Charteris — so  much  she  had  admitted  to 
him  in  their  many  conversations — knew  or  made 
himself  believe  he  knew,  God  help  him! — that  he, 
even  he,  might  in  time  teach  Pam  to  accept  his  own 
love,  his  name,  his  home,  his  heart;  might,  if  the 
field  were  left  clear  to  him,  win  her  to  him. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  317 

The  blood  rushed  through  his  veins  at  the  mere 
thought  of  it ;  his  thin  face  reddened,  his  lean  hands 
locked  together  tensely.  Then  he  rose  with  a  long 
breath  of  decision,  and  said :  "  You  shall  not  quit 
England,  until  you  have  seen  Pamela  and  talked  to 
her.  By  the  Lord  above  us,  sir,  I  believe  if  you  go 
'twill  kill  her !  " 

"  But  how  can  I  see  her?  Have  I  not  battered  down 
her  door  almost,  waylaid  her  men  and  women ! " 

"  Hark !  she  is  in  the  Sweet-Acre  now,  I  think. 
Vault  the  garden  wall  and  find  Pam  on  the  other 
side." 

The  Duke  tried  to  grasp  the  hunchback's  hand. 
But  Beauclerc  looked  at  the  proffered  palm. 

"  Nay,"  said  he,  gasping — "  not  to-day,  sir,  not 
to-day." 

And  he  went  back  to  the  Bedford,  while  Harlowe, 
measuring  well  the  depth  of  his  friend's  devotion, 
made  swiftly  for  Sweet-Acre  House. 

Pamela  was  not  now,  however,  in  the  garden. 
When  the  poet  had  left  her,  she  went  up  to  her  room, 
and  knelt  down  by  the  bedside  and  wept. 

"  La,  la,  God  A'mighty !  "  cried  she.  "  Mother, 
where  be  'ee  now?  Oh,  wrestle  with  the  Lord  and  ask 
him  send  help  and  strength  to  Pam.  Wrestle  with 


318  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

the  evil  spirits,  mother,  and  overcome  'em  so's  I  can 
still  say  him  nay !  Mother !  mother !  "  moaned  the 
girl,  "  does  'ee  hear?  No,  'ee  doesn't !  "  she  exclaimed 
fiercely,  "  for  he's  tugging  at  my  heart  as  never  be- 
fore ;  I  can't  deny  him,  if  I  go  on  living.  'Twere  bet- 
ter die,  mother;  I'll  die!  I'll  go  to  'ee  some'eres 
where  'ee  is,  and  that  '11  be  my  only  way  out  of  it  all. 
Yes,  yes,  to  die." 

She  tore  the  gewgaws  from  her  throat  as  if  they 
choked  her ;  tore  the  silk  kerchief  from  her  shoulders, 
and  the  sash  from  her  waist ;  she  threw  up  her  arms 
to  her  head  and  loosened  the  pins  and  combs  from  her 
hair  and  shook  it  free.  She  gasped  a  moment  at  the 
open  casement,  then  flew  down  and  out  once  more 
into  the  garden,  laughing  in  her  bitterness  of  woe; 
for  laughter  is  not  always  a  sign  of  mirth,  but 
sometimes  so  akin  to  tears  as  many  dream  not 
of. 

"  Heyday !  "  she  called  to  the  bees  humming  above 
the  blossoms,  "  heyday !  "  to  the  lark  flying  high  up 
in  the  clouds,  "  heyday !  "  to  the  buds  and  mosses,  the 
green  leaves  and  boughs,  the  light  and  glow,  and 
brown  earth  spaces. 

"  Heyday !  O  youth  of  gold,  youth  unmatchable ; 
youth  full  of  splendour,  of  grace,  of  strength,  of 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  319 

hope,  power,  will,  purpose,  triumph,  fulfilment !  Hey- 
day !  There  is  no  time  like  thy  time,"  say  we  all — 
until  our  prime  comes,  and  then  alone  do  we  know 
that  youth  is  not  the  height  of  all  things.  But 
Pamela  had  not  reached  her  prime,  and  to  her  the 
whole  of  life  lay  bounded  by  her  own  space. 

She  came  tripping,  her  hair  softly  blown  about 
her,  her  throat  open,  flitting  down  the  garden  path, 
next  the  wall,  which  was  built  up  far  above  her. 

Then  she  heard  a  sound  on  the  other  side  of  the 
wall,  and  paused  to  listen.  It  was  his  voice. 

"Art  about,  Pamela?" 

She  made  no  answer,  but  swung  the  branch  above 
her  head,  shaking  showers  of  blossoms  down  on  either 
side  of  the  wall. 

"  Thou  art ! "  cried  he  in  ecstasy,  and  over  came  a 
twisted  note,  which  she  hastened  to  recover  and  then 
to  read. 

"  Pamela,  life  of  me ;  if  ever  I  found  a  favour  in 
thy  sight,  pluck  a  flower  from  thy  bodice  or  thy 
garden,  and  toss  it  over  to  say  '  come '  to  him  who 
stands,  lacking  any  patience  whatever,  at  thy 
threshold.  For  God's  sake,  my  lady,  mock  me  not, 
but  let  me  in  to  the  extreme  comfort  of  thy  presence. 
Thy  HARLOWE  ! " 


320  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

She  leaned  over  and  picked  a  daffodil,  and,  not 
stopping  to  think,  flung  it  over  the  wall. 

No  sooner  had  it  reached  him  than  he  vaulted  to 
the  broad  top  and  was  making  over  when  she  warned 
him,  "No  further!" 

"  Wilt  then  come  up  to  me,  my  sweeting  ?  "  asked 
he,  bending  two  arms  to  help  her  mount,  and  fires 
most  ardent  burning  in  his  glances. 

What  becomes  of  oaths,  resolves,  and  resolutions 
when  the  day  is  young  and  all  the  pulses  swing  in 
measure  with  its  happy  freshness? 

Pamela  laughed  aloud;  that  there  was  a  ring  of 
sadness  underlying  this,  Harlowe  did  not  hear,  nor  did 
he  note  at  all  the  half -reckless  mood  that  seemed  to 
possess  her. 

She  would  mount  to  him;  stood  tiptoeing,  while 
he  stooped  and  lifted  her  up  on  top  of  the  garden 
wall.  As  she  felt  his  strength  raising  her,  she  knew 
there  is  nothing  half  so  sweet  in  the  world  for  woman 
as  to  yield,  to  do  as  she  is  asked;  and  the  joy  of  so 
yielding  filled  all  her  soul  with  immeasurable  glad- 
ness and  pleasure,  and  for  the  moment  shut  away  most 
things  else.  It  was  such  infinite  delight  for  once — 
just  once — to  say  yes  to  his  wishes. 

The  mulberry  boughs  bent  over  them  where  they 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  321 

sat ;  she  a  little  higher  than  he,  on  a  stone  that  jutted 
above  the  level  of  the  rest ;  he  half  lying  at  her  side, 
his  elbow  resting  on  the  sweep  of  her  petticoats,  and 
his  hands  playing  with  the  fine  lengths  of  her  hair. 

The  air,  so  soft,  so  sweet,  blew  from  the  river  in 
between  the  leaves  and  gave  them  refreshment;  the 
sun,  piercing  the  mists,  crept  into  their  leafy  bower 
and  made  them  warm;  the  flowers  perfumed  all  the 
place,  and  the  music  of  the  bees  and  birds  trilled  out 
most  gaily. 

"  Sweetheart,"  said  he,  "  at  last,  then,  I  am  per- 
mitted within  shot  of  thine  ears." 

"  Lud,  your  Grace  might  have  shot  at  'em  any 
night  from  the  pit,  if  you're  the  good  marksman  I 
believe  you  to  be."  She  laughed  at  him  through  her 
lashes. 

"  Mock  me  not.  Lord  God,  Pam !  "  he  cried  most 
earnestly,  "  but  I  thank  Him  I'm  at  your  side  once 
more.  Why,  heart  of  my  heart,  why  have  you  so 
flouted  me  and  denied  me  all  these  five  months  past  ?  " 

"  Oh ! "  cried  she,  laughing  still,  "  you  stood  in 
Harlowe  House  on  Christmas  Eve  and — doubted  me." 

"  No,  by  Heaven !  and  you  know  it.  I'll  not  waste 
precious  time  on  such  an  idle  subject,  but  rather  haste 
to  ask  you  to  redeem  your  promise  made  that  very 


322  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

night,  to  tell  me  all ;  to  tell  me  what  it  is  stands  be- 
twixt you  and  me  being  made  man  and  wife,  Pamela !  " 

"  Oh,  guess !  "  said  she,  still  lightly. 

"Charteris?" 

"  No." 

"  Then,  Pam,  some  other  man?  " 

"  No." 

"  Thou  lovest  me?  " 

"  Give  me  thy  hand,"  she  whispered. 

"  My  hand  and  heart  and  all  of  me  are  given  thee 
long  since,"  Dudleigh  answered  her. 

She  laid  his  hand  upon  her  side  a  moment — then 
sighed  as  she  lifted  it  away. 

"  There ! "  she  whispered,  "  thou  hast  felt  beating 
in  me  the  twin  of  thine  own  galloping  heart,  hast 
not?  " 

"  God  bless  thee !  Pam !  Pam !  Come  to  me  I 
Come  into  my  arms,  come !  " 

With  an  infinite  gentleness,  an  infinite  reverence,  he 
drew  her  into  his  arms,  so  close  that  she  shuddered; 
so  close  his  lips  upon  her  own  that  it  was  poignant 
pain  to  part  them.  It  was  very  silent  all  around 
them;  the  bees  had  blundered  away  to  other  places, 
and  the  birds  flown  off;  the  little  winds  had  hushed, 
and  the  crickets  fallen  asleep,  and  the  sunshine  slipped 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  323 

to  the  other  side  of  the  garden,  and  the  mists  all 
melted  away. 

"  Dudleigh,"  she  said  at  last,  very  low,  with 
strange  tears  in  her  eyes,  "  give  me  back  my 
flower." 

"  Why,  sweet?  "  asked  he,  "  what  can  you  want 
with  that?" 

"  For  a  keepsake,  to  have  until  I  die." 

"  Fie!  "  cried  he  joyously;  "  to  name  dying  in  our 
first  hour  of  love !  But  if  you'll  take  a  keepsake,  let 
it  be  this  jewel,"  and  he  slipped  the  ring  from  his 
finger. 

"  No,"  said  she  persistently,  "  I  want  the  flower. 
Freight  it  ere  you  give  it." 

He  laughed  as  he  kissed  the  daffodil.  "  Let  me 
drop  the  blossom  and  its  cargo  safe — into  the — 
harbour — of — thy  heart,"  said  he,  slipping  it  into 
the  bosom  of  her  frock.  "  Now,  life  of  me,  tell  me 
when  we  shall  be  married  ?  " 

"  Never !  Never  !  "  answered  Pam,  bursting  into 
a  fit  of  laughter  and  slipping  from  him,  off  the  wall, 
down  again  into  the  garden. 

"By  Heavens!"  cried  the  Duke,  jumping  down 
after  her,  "  that  is  an  answer  I'll  not  take,  but 
rather  now  will  I  take  you  and  run  off  with  you  to 


324  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

some  parson  and  be  made  one  before  you  can  deny 
me." 

"  No !  "  she  cried,  putting  the  stone  bench  between 
them. 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  he  bluntly. 

"  Come  sup  with  me  to-morrow  night,  and  then — 
then  I'll  tell  tnee." 

"  With  thee  alone?  "  he  asked  eagerly. 

"  Nay,  a  dozen  gallants ;  Beauclerc,  Rawdon,  little 
Toby  mayhap,  and  Lord  Charteris." 

"  Charteris !  Pam !  "  His  voice  spoke  remon- 
strance and  surprise. 

"  Aye,  Charteris  and  you,  if  you'll  come?  " 

"  Pam !  Anywhere  to  be  near  you — if  you  want 
me?" 

"  I  want  thee  always  where  I  am,  so  long  as  I  live !  " 
Then,  giving  him  no  time  to  catch,  to  pursue,  to 
remonstrate,  she  was  gone  out  of  his  sight,  into  the 
house. 

But  the  memory  of  her,  the  fine  touch  of  her  dear 
mouth,  the  splendid  sense  that  he  had  at  last  held  her 
in  his  arms,  had  heard  her  say  she  loved  him,  was  with 
him  now,  to  glorify,  sanctify,  ennoble  everything  he 
did,  or  thought,  or  saw. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE  PLOT  OF  THE  PLAY 

A  FEW  hours  later  in  the  day,  my  Lord 
Charteris    being  seated  alone  at  dinner  in 
his  lodgings  in  St.  James',  Pink  came  in 
to    announce  that  Mistress  Congreve's  porter    was 
without,  wishing  to  see  his  lordship.     His  lordship 
was  to  be  seen  without  any  difficulty  by  anyone  com- 
ing from  Sweet- Acre  House,  and  Godfrey  was  ushered 
in  at  once  to  deliver  his  message.    "  Would  Lord 
Charteris  sup  with  Mistress  Congreve  on  the  morrow 
at  six?  " 

Lord  Charteris  would,  and  sent  Godfrey  off  with 
a  guinea,  which  Pink  eyed  greedily,  and  lost  no  time 
in  telling  his  master  was  his  by  right. 

"  Tut !  tut !  Pink,"  said  the  Earl,  "  I'll  soon  be  in 
a  position  to  pay  you  all  I  owe  you,  lad;  'tis  much, 
too,  I  grant,  but  your  master  once  more  in  favour 
with  Mistress  Congreve!  Bah!  away  with  you  and 
these  platters !  "  pushing  the  viands  from  before  him. 

325 


326  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  I'd  feed  on  thoughts,  fancies,  imaginations,  fore- 
castings  of  joy  to  come.  Take  away  your  messes; 
and  here,  to  the  money-lenders,  with  five  guineas. 
Lend  'em  to  me,  Pink?  you  damned  rascal!  I  know 
you  won  'em  at  crimp  at  the  Tub  last  night ;  redeem 
me  my  puce-coloured  velvet  coat  and  breeches  against 
the  supper  at  Sweet-Acre  House  to-morrow.  Sweet 
Pink,  you  will? "  The  nobleman  emphasised  his 
wheedling  by  firing  a  Sevres  plate  at  his  man's  pate, 
accompanied  by  a  laugh  as  Pink,  swearing,  left  the 
room. 

But  on  the  morrow,  Lord  Charteris,  attired  'in  his 
puce-coloured  garments,  made  ready  for  his  visit.  He 
had  written  Pamela  a  most  impassioned  screed  the 
evening  before,  and  sent  it  to  her  by  Pink,  with  a 
small  lapdog,  a  string  of  Indian  cockle-shells  about 
its  neck. 

Pam  read  the  letter.  She  had  had  its  match  daily 
from  the  same  source  since  December;  read  it  and 
smiled  as  she  threw  it  into  the  fire  burning  on  the 
hearth,  for  the  evenings  were  still  chilly. 

As  she  watched  it  crumble  into  an  ashy  film,  she 
glanced  up  to  catch  her  own  reflection  in  the  mirror 
above  the  mantel.  She  started.  She  had  not  looked 
at  herself  in  a  long  time  save  by  the  dingy  flare  of 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  327 

her  tiring-room  candles  at  the  theatre,  and  with  the 
red  and  white  and  black  of  the  make-up  on  her  face. 

It  was  changed.  Pam  saw  it  herself.  There  was  a 
resolve  and  certainty  of  fixed  purpose  engraving  lit- 
tle lines  about  her  beautiful  mouth,  and  painting  in 
her  eyes  the  shadow  of  a  something  determined,  al- 
though yet  to  come. 

She  took  a  tiny  box  from  her  dressing-case,  and 
slid  back  the  lid ;  in  it  lay  two  lozenges,  white  and  pure 
on  the  pink  lining.  Pam  lifted  one  out,  held  it  to  the 
light  and  examined  it;  then  she  replaced  it;  took  it 
out  again,  raised  it  half-way  to  her  lips,  then  put  it 
in  the  box  once  more,  and  snapped  the  cover  and 
placed  the  thing  carefully  in  the  pocket  of  the  rose- 
coloured  brocade  gown  that  she  should  wear,  she  had 
told  Jess,  to-morrow  night. 

"  La,  la,  God  A'mighty !  "  With  the  old  cry  out 
of  her  childhood — back  into  her  vernacular,  as  is  the 
way  with  most  people  when  under  heavy  stress — she 
sank  down  upon  the  floor,  before  the  fire,  crouching 
as  she  had  crouched  so  long  ago  in  the  furrow  be- 
tween the  corn-rows. 

She  closed  her  eyes,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  she 
heard  again  the  moan  of  the  sea,  the  sigh  and  whis- 
tling sweep  of  the  wind  through  the  stalks ;  that  she 


328  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

saw  a  gibbet  high  on  Chilton  Hill,  and  one  swinging 
on  it. 

"  Oh ! "  cried  she,  clenching  her  hands  together, 
and  lying  there,  face  upward  to  the  flicker  of  her  fire. 
"  Oh,  but  I'll  not  die  until  'ee's  avenged,  sweet  one ! 
sweet  brave  one,  'at  Pam  loved,  'at  loved  Pam;  all 
the  world  shall  know  'fore  Pam  dies — and  he — he'll 
know,  too.  Dudleigh !  Dudleigh !  Dudleigh !  "  Al- 
though the  murmur  of  his  name  was  deep  within  her 
throat,  the  sound  of  it  was  as  the  break  of  a  human 
heart. 

She  lay  there  motionless  until  Jess  and  Godfrey 
came  to  remind  her  it  was  time  to  go  to  the  playhouse. 
She  went  and  acted  better,  people  said,  than  she  ever 
had ;  which  only  goes  to  prove  that  each  of  us  is  two, 
and  that  this  pair  sit  mocking  and  playing  cross- 
purposes  with  each  other  from  the  hour  we  are  born 
until  the  hour  we  are  killed. 

The  next  day  passed  as  was  the  custom,  and  six 
o'clock  was  fast  approaching. 

Indeed,  my  Lord  Charteris  was  already  in  his  chair 
on  his  way  to  Gooseberry  Lane ;  by  the  time  he  reached 
there  Mr.  Beauclerc  was  alighting  from  his,  and  al- 
ready Sir  Thomas  Trevor,  Sir  Toby  Spencer,  Lord 
Rawdon,  Heathcote,  Peter  Twiss,  Meg,  and  some 


"Raised  it  half  way  to  her  lips. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  329 

other  ladies  of  the  theatre  were  assembled  in  the  gar- 
den, where  the  supper  table  was  being  laid  by  Jess 
and  Godfrey. 

These  gentlemen  were  only  too  pleased  to  accept 
an  invitation,  the  more  so  that  since  the  episode  of  the 
jewels  Pamela  had  studiously  refused  to  see  any  of 
them  but  Beauclerc,  and  the  whole  pack  were  but  too 
anxious  to  do  her  honour  and  make  her  fully  believe 
that  none  harboured  a  thought  of  her  being  guilty  of 
the  theft. 

But  none  of  them  ha3  counted  on  meeting  Lord 
Charteris  in  Pamela's  house.  The  hunchback  could 
scarce  credit  his  senses  as  he  saw  the  Earl  beside  him, 
heard  his  suave  voice  in  his  ear. 

"  Mr.  Beauclerc,  I  have  the  honour,  sir,"  tender- 
ing his  snuffbox,  and  then  resnapping  it  with  a  well- 
feigned  air  of  surprise,  "  Gad,  sir,  empty !  I'm  so 
poor  even  my  snuffbox  lacks  one  pinch.  Will  you 
favour  me?  " 

The  poet  handed  his  box  without  a  word. 

"  I  thank,  you,  sir,  'pon  honour,  I  do ;  I'm  poorer 
than  ever,  sir." 

"  You  jest,  my  lord,"  said  Beauclerc  coldly,  wait- 
ing for  the  other  to  proceed  on  his  way. 

"  No,  sir,  I  swear  I  belong  to  the  Jews,  sir,  body 


330  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

and  soul ;  if  they  could  sell  me,  they  would ;  but  Gad, 
sir,  nobody  '11  have  me !  " 

Charteris  laughed  with  a  charming  gaiety  as  he 
filliped  dismissal  to  his  chairmen,  while  Beauclerc  re- 
marked sarcastically :  "  Is  Lady  Betty  dead,  then  ?  " 

"  Sir,  I  vow  I  know  not.  When  la  Congreve  bids 
me  to  sup  with  her,  I'm  not  thinking  about  your  Lady 
Bettys!  You  remember  what  I  told  you  when  we 
encountered  in  the  woods  at  Harlowe?  Well,  sir,  I 
sup  here  to-night — express,  invited  by  the  mistress 
of  Sweet- Acre !  " 

"  So  do  I !  "  responded  the  hunchback  drily. 

"  Ton  my  soul,  I  am  more  in  favour  than  I  dared 
to  hope,  since  the  poet  is  asked  to  meet  me."  Char- 
teris bowed  low,  the  sneer  on  his  handsome  lips  fiercer 
than  ever.  "  Zounds !  Mr.  Beauclerc,  even  if  a  lady 
is  a  thief  or  a  player,  what  can  I  do  so  long  as  she 
pleases  me  and  I  please  her?  " 

With  an  insolent  smile  and  a  second  profound  bow, 
the  Earl  entered  the  garden,  so  possessed  with  joy 
and  triumph  that  it  seemed  to  him  he  trod  on  air. 

Once  within,  he  met  Harlowe.  They  eyed  each 
other  distantly;  each  had  thoughts  of  his  own,  but 
neither  uttered  a  word  save  the  conventional  mention 
of  the  other's  title. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  331 

Charteris  felt  himself  upon  that  pinnacle  where  he 
could  look  down  upomall  his  quarter  of  the  world  and 
smile  serene,  a  conqueror  and  a  king;  for  he  never 
doubted  that  all  here  were  bidden  to  behold  how  Pam 
was  taking  him  into  favour — and  in  the  riot  of  his 
imagination  she  was  already  in  his  arms,  her  mouth 
the  willing  prey  to  his  kisses. 

No  wonder  he  beamed  on  everyone.  Even  now,  as 
she  entered  the  garden,  he  made  his  way  alone,  as  if 
by  right  of  precedence,  to  her  on  the  steps,  and  ten- 
dering his  hand  to  clasp  hers,  gave  her  such  a  glance 
of  mad  possessiveness  as  did  not  escape  Harlowe's 
jealous  watching  or  the  hunchback's  either. 

"  Hist,  Lord  Charteris,"  whispered  Pam,  laugh- 
ing, "  I  went  to  Cagliostro's  yesterday  and  he  bade 
me  beware  of  light  fingers.  Your  pardon " — she 
withdrew  her  hand. 

"  But,  Pam,  you've  bade  me  here  to  let  me  know 
how  much  you  love  me  ?  "  he  gave  back  in  an  intense 
whisper. 

"  Aye,"  she  answered  very  seriously.  "  That  I 
have.  How  much  I  love  you !  " 

And  Pamela,  laughing  still,  tossed  her  fan  into 
his  hands,  and  came  tripping  down  the  steps  into  the 
midst  of  her  guests.  Everyone  present,  save  one  or 


PAMELA    CONGREVE 

two,  could  have  sworn  such  a  token  of  a  lady's  favour 
meant  but  one  thing  only.  As  is  common,  everyone 
rose  with  the  tide;  everyone  pooh-poohed  his  own 
estimate  of  Charteris,  and  since  Pam  smiled  on  him, 
concluded  he  must  be  a  gallant  of  the  first  quality ; 
all  made  much  of  him,  all  laughed  at  his  jests,  ap- 
plauded his  witticisms,  conciliated  his  haughty  airs, 
admired  his  splendid  cynicism  and  his  absolutely 
offensive  airs  of  superiority. 

Pam.  noted  all  this;  her  eyes  sparkled  and  her 
cheeks  flushed,  and  she  urged  it  on  the  more  with  her 
own  caress  of  manner,  word,  and  deed,  until  Harlowe 
and  Beauclerc,  both  looking  on,  were  at  their  wits'  end 
to  imagine  the  cause  of  her  hilarity,  and  her  ardent 
desire  to  make  of  Charteris  the  honoured  guest  among 
all  the  others  present. 

She  placed  him  opposite  to  herself,  however,  at  the 
supper  table,  not,  as  he  had  hoped,  at  her  right  hand. 
Harlowe  sat  there,  and  Beauclerc  at  her  left. 

"  You  put  me  far  from  you,  mistress,"  said  the 
Earl,  abashed,  as  he  took  his  seat. 

"  That  I  may  gaze  the  better  upon  you,  my  lord !  " 
she  answered,  radiant.  There  were  toasts  to  the 
King,  Queen,  and  Royal  Highnesses:  to  every  soul 
present,  and  many  who  were  not.  When  there  came 


PAMELA  CONGREVE  333 

a  lull  in  the  merriment,  "  Now,"  said  Pam,  "  pray 
you,  a  bumper;  fill  up  your  glasses  to  the  brim,  and 
will  ye  all  drink  to  the  success  of  my  new  play  ?  " 

"  The  new  play !  "  Up  went  the  shout  from  every 
throat  there,  heartfelt  and  vociferous.  None  drank 
deeper  than  Charteris ;  but  Harlowe  scarcely  touched 
his  wine.  His  glance  was  on  Pam.  To  him  there  was 
something  unnatural,  unreal,  theatrical  in  her  whole 
aspect ;  the  very  crimson  on  her  cheeks,  he  could  have 
sworn,  was  false. 

"  Who's  the  lucky  dog  of  an  author? "  cried 
Twiss. 

"  'Tis  not  to  be  known  who  writ  it  till  it  has  been 
acted,"  answered  Pam. 

"  What's  the  plot?  "  exclaimed  Charteris,  leaning 
forward  over  the  table,  goblet  in  hand,  and  noting 
the  flicker  of  the  golden  light  in  the  amber  as  he 
spoke,  with  the  air  of  a  connoisseur  in  wine,  women, 
and  plays,  too. 

There  was  a  haughty  assurance  in  the  gaze  which 
he  fixed  on  Pamela;  an  arrogant  if  slightly  veiled 
masterfulness,  and  an  unbounded  if  covert  impudence. 
Not  a  gallant  present  but  would  have  rejoiced  to  kick 
him  out  of  the  room ;  not  a  lady  but  would  have 
clapped  hands  to  see  it  done.  Yet  for  the  while,  his 


PAMELA    CONGREVE 

little  world  smiled  blandly  on  Lord  Charteris  and  he 
was  supremely  at  his  ease. 

"  The  plot  of  the  play,"  replied  Pamela,  "  runs 
this  way :  I  wanted  to  rehearse  it  to  you  to-night  and 
see  what  you  all  thought  of  it."  She  spoke  slowly, 
and  to  one  who  loved  her  an  effort  was  apparent  in 
her  speech ;  yet  she  went  on  quietly,  in  an  even,  delib- 
erate tone. 

"  'Tis  in  a  prologue  and  four  acts.  The  prologue 
shows  a  fisherman's  cabin  on  the  shore  of  one  of  the 
sea-islands  yonder,  toward  the  coast  of  France:  in  it 
live  the  fisherman,  his  wife  and  daughter,  a  girl  of 
sixteen.  There  comes  a  noble  gentleman  for  sport, 
and  lodges  with  them :  the  fisherman  presently,  lured 
from  his  honest  calling,  listens  to  great  tales  of  all 
the  gold  that's  made  by  smuggling  between  France, 
England,  and  Holland.  In  a  brief  time  the  smack 
forsakes  the  fishing  trade,  and  the  man  and  his  wife 
and  daughter,  partners  together  with  the  nobleman, 
are  doing  a  thriving  business  in  wines,  hides,  tobacco, 
and  the  like.  Money  is  made  quickly  and  plentifully ; 
the  wife  dies ;  the  girl  is  wooed  by  the  nobleman.  She 

loves  him "  Pamela's  voice  sank  to  the  faintest 

whisper,  and  its  intensity  of  pathos  thrilled  every 
listener. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  335 

Charteris,  still  lazing  back  in  his  armchair,  re- 
garded her  steadily,  through  his  long  lashes,  not  in 
the  least  embarrassed  or  annoyed,  but  rather,  it  would 
seem,  with  keener  enjoyment  in  his  mien. 

"  Loves  him,"  continued  Pam  with  a  sigh,  "  and 
on  the  plighting  of  their  troth  the  first  curtain  falls. 
When  it  rises  again  we  have  the  scene  of  a  smuggler's 
cave  on  the  main  coast,  the  real  character  of  the 
smack  has  been  discovered  by  the  coastguard;  they 
surround  her,  loaded  to  the  water's  edge  with  goods, 
as  she  rides  at  anchor  in  the  cave  where  the  treasure 
lies  hidden " 

Charteris  raised  his  glass  to  his  lips  and  sipped 
leisurely. 

"  The  chief  guard  gains  the  rocky  height  opposite 
to  the  cave,  he  is  shouting  to  his  men  below  in  their 
wherry  what  to  do,  when  a  shot  is  fired  from  the  cave 
and  the  guard  falls  dead.  In  the  cave  are  three,  the 
fisherman,  his  child,  and  the  nobleman  who  loves  her: 
guess  who  fired  the  shot?  " 

There  was  a  pause:  the  curious  instinctive  appre- 
hension brooding  over  the  whole  company  grew 
deeper  than  before.  Meg  alone  ventured  with  a  ner- 
vous giggle,  to  say,  "  The  girl  did." 

"  Nay,"  said  Pamela,  "  'twas  the  noble  gentleman 


336  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

who  did  the  deed.  But  no  quicker  had  the  powder- 
smoke  cleared  away  than  he  is  into  the  cave's  mouth 
screaming,  '  Ho !  there,  guard,  guard !  I  say,  here's 
your  murderer,  here's  your  smuggler  caught  red- 
handed  ! '  And  he  gives  over  the  fisherman  to  the  law, 
notwithstanding  all  he  and  his  daughter  say.  But 
while  they  are  chaining  the  fisherman  the  noble  gen- 
tleman runs  to  the  inlet  at  the  rear,  and  signals  the 
smack  back  to  Holland,  and  off  she  goes,  him  the 
gainer  by  twenty  thousand  pounds,  and  the  second 
curtain  goes  down  on  a  gibbet,  with  the  girl's  father, 
whom  she  loved  better  than  her  life,  a-swinging  from 
it." 

Charteris  sipped  again,  but  his  hand  was  not  quite 
as  steady  as  it  had  been. 

The  poet  watched  him  narrowly ;  so  did  Sir  Thomas 
Trevor. 

Dudleigh's  gaze  never  quitted  Pamela's  face. 

"  Next  we  have  her  serving  as  barmaid  at  an  inn ; 
the  nobleman  comes  there  to  meet  fine  ladies  and 
gentlemen — one  of  the  former  he  is  wooing  for  her 
fortune ;  the  fisher-girl  and  he  encounter ;  she  implores 
him  to  set  her  father's  memory  right;  he  will  not; 
she  threatens  to  tell  the  fine  lady  of  his  evil  deeds; 
he  seizes  her  and,  as  she  persists,  draws  his  dirk  to 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  337 

kill  her;  she,  supple  of  wrist  and  strong,  wrests  the 
weapon  from  him  as  he  opens  the  spring  door  beside 
the  fireplace  to  an  underground  passage  to  the  sea, 
and  attempts  to  thrust  her  into  it,  and  so  out  of  his 
path  forever,  for  the  passage  leads  to  the  smuggler's 
cave  and  the  sea,  and  is  known  to  this  noble  gentle- 
man of  old.  In  defending  herself  she  wounds  him; 
terrified,  and  believing  herself  a  murderer,  she  escapes 
to  London,  and  presently  obtains  employment  in  the 
playhouse.  She  rises  to  fame,  fortune,  is  the  idol  of 
the  hour,  but  ever  at  her  heart  the  dread  doubt  of  a 
man's  life  being  to  her  charge.  She  is — loved  " — 
again  Pam's  sweet  voice  sank  lower — "  and  she  loves, 
but  will  not  confess  it,  for  she  feels  the  double  stain 
upon  her  father.  At  last  she  meets  the  noble  gentle- 
man, far  from  dead;  encounters  him  at  a  fortune- 
teller's and  again,  his  passion  for  her  but  redoubled 
by  time,  he  seeks  to  make  her  his.  She  scorns  him. 
Again  and  again  they  meet,  and  at  Christmas-time 
find  themselves  guests  beneath  the  same  roof.  Up  to 
his  crown  in  gaming  debts,  the  nobleman  obtains  the 
key  to  a  box  containing  the  family  jewels  of  the 
owner  of  the  house,  and  has  just  taken  them  from 
their  place  of  supposed  safety  when  the  fisher-girl 
confronts  him,  seizes  his  plunder,  rings  the  great  bell 


PAMELA    CONGREVE 

in  the  tower — and  when  the  company  come  in,  the 
nobleman  fastens  upon  her  the  theft,  as  he  swore  he 
would  unless  she  would  become  his " 

A  confused  inarticulate  murmur  began  to  be  heard. 
Charteris  smiled  superior  still;  there  is  a  blindness 
more  blind  than  even  sightless  eyes ;  he  actually  still 
believed  himself  in  her  favour. 

Pam  put  up  her  hand  to  make  silence  as  she  spoke 
on. 

"  Oh,"  cried  she,  all  her  wrath  and  grief,  long-pent, 
bursting  every  bond,  "  the  fisherman  was  my  father, 
my  father  that  I  loved,  my  father  that  I  swore  I'd 
right  before  I  died,  my  father  " — sobs  rent  her,  and 
she  shook  from  head  to  foot — "  that  Pelham,  Earl 
of  Charteris,  made  them  hang  up  on  Chilton  Hill  for 
the  crime  he  committed !  Oh,  my  God !  my  God !  I've 
told  it !  I've  told  it !  He  was  innocent !  " 

Charteris  laughed  and  shook  his  head  compassion- 
ately. "  It  is  a  lie ! "  said  he  softly,  but  well  to  be 
heard. 

Harlowe  gave  Pam  over  to  Beauclerc's  care,  and 
sprang  to  face  Charteris  across  the  table,  dashing  in 
his  face  the  ready  glass  of  Burgundy. 

"  It  is  the  truth !  "  cried  he. 

"  The  truth !  "  cried  every  throat  there. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  339 

"  A  lie !  a  lie !  an  infernal  lie !  "  shrieked  Charteris 
wildly,  rising  and  unsheathing.  "  This  woman  is 
mine,  and  'tis  because  of  her  jealousy  of  Lady  Betty 
Wynd " 

Harlowe  was  at  his  throat  before  he  could  finish 
the  word,  both  his  strong  hands  clasped  around  it. 

"  You  damned,  intriguing  blackguard,"  he  said  in 
a  low,  quivering  voice,  "  I  promised  you  at  White's, 
in  the  presence  of  most  of  these  gentlemen  here,  I'd 
fight  you  yet,  although  you  eluded  me  then,  and  I 
promised  you  that  'twould  be  for  the  cause  of  a  name- 
less girl  you  maligned  before  us  all  then.  It  is — but 
by  heaven  and  its  God!  not  nameless  now  or  ever  to 
be,  but  Duchess  of  Harlowe  as  soon  as  she  will — and 
now,  sir,"  flinging  the  Earl  down  into  his  seat. 
"  name  your  place  and  time  and  weapons.  I  am  at 
your  service." 

"  Nay ! "  cried  Pamela,  darting  between  them  out 
of  Beauclerc's  hold,  "  you  must  not  fight  for  me." 

"  Aye,"  said  the  Duke,  "  my  lady,  'tis  for  you  I 
must  and  will  fight  to  the  death !  Lord  Charteris,  1 
await  your  pleasure." 

The  Earl  roused  himself,  and  answered  with  an  ad' 
mirable  coolness,  as  he  rearranged  the  general  dis- 
order of  his  attire: 


340  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  The  woods  near  the  Greene  Shippe  at  Tamworth 
on  the  day  after  to-morrow  at  sunrise;  rapiers,  at 
your  pleasure." 

"  I  am  suited,"  replied  Harlowe.  "  Save  that  you 
put  off  the  meeting  forty-eight  hours  too  long.  Yet 
I  will  wait  on  your  wishes,  and  midnight  of  Monday 
will  find  me  galloping  post-haste  to  Tamworth 
Woods.  I  shall  be  there  when  you  arrive." 

It  was  quickly  settled  that  Rawdon  and  Sir  Toby 
should  be  Harlowe's  seconds,  while  Charteris  was  fain 
to  put  up  with  Heathcote  and  a  young  baronet  named 
Rousby,  so  newly  come  up  to  town  as  to  be  eager  to 
be  second  to  anybody  who  might  need  his  services. 

Arm-in-arm  with  this  newly  made  acquaintance. 
Charteris  quitted  the  Sweet-Acre  with  profound  bows 
to  everyone  present,  apparently  not  at  all  embar- 
rassed by  any  of  the  incidents  of  the  evening. 

Godfrey  held  open  the  gates  for  him  and  chirruped 
for  his  lordship's  chair;  heard  him  bid  good-night 
to  Sir  Charles  Rousby,  and  also  say  low  to  his  chair- 
men: 

"  To  the  Tub  as  fast  as  your  legs  can  fetch  me* 
and  then  back  to  St.  James',  and  send  Pink  on  the 
instant.  A  moment's  delay  and  I'll  split  the  face  of 
you  into  ribbons ! " 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

WHY    SHE    LOVED    HIM 

WHEN  Harlowe  turned  back  into  the 
garden  from  bidding  the  last  guests 
good-night,  he  found  her  standing  by 
the  table,  where  the  candles  were  glimmering  and  dip- 
ping to  their  sockets,  with  a  small  box  in  one  hand 
and  a  lozenge  in  the  other. 

"  What  is't,  sweet?  "  he  said,  his  heart  too  full  for 
attempt  at  utterance  of  its  deepest  thoughts. 

"  'Tis  something  I  had  minded  to  take  to  put  me 
out  of  the  world,  in  case  you  had  shrunk  from  me 
because  of — my  father." 

Harlowe  looked  at  her  and  put  out  his  hand. 
"  Give  it  to  me,  Pam,"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  quiet 
command. 

"  Nay,"  said  she,  "  I'll  keep  it — since  you  are 
bound  to  fight  Lord  Charteris ;  if  any  harm  befall 
you — I  will  join  you!  "  She  replaced  the  box  in  her 

pocket. 

341 


342  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  That  will  you  not ! "  cried  he,  putting  in  his 
hand  and  drawing  it  forth,  and  then  tossing  it  high 
over  the  gates.  "  Pam,  nothing  will  befall  me,  my 
girl."  He  took  her  hands  in  his. 

"  Oh,"  said  she,  wistful  and  anxious,  "  Charteris 
is  the  best  swordsman  in  Europe.  He  knows  tricks 
that  are  devilish,  and  no  honest  gentleman  fights  him 
on  an  equality." 

"  I've  no  fears,  my  sweetheart.  God !  All  the 
world  is  full  of  joy  and  peace  since  now  I  know  your 
history  of  what  stood  betwixt  us."  He  laughed  a 
little. 

"  And  you  care  not  ?  "  murmured  she,  withdrawing 
from  him  a  step. 

"  Aye,  but  I  do  care ;  I  am  glad  that  'tis  as  'tis,  so 
that  you  will  be  the  more  willing  to  come  to  me  for 
shelter,  protection,  and  love." 

"  But  if  aught  should  happen  you  on  Thurs- 
day!" 

"  Well,  at  the  worst,  death — and  I  swear  I'll 
have  a  parson  at  the  Inn  if  you'll  come,  too. 
We'll  be  made  man  and  wife  if  Charteris  pricks 
me." 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  "  God  forbid  he  harm  you  by 
even  a  hair !  " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  343 

"  Dost  love  me  truly,  Pam?  Dear,  my  life,  thou 
hast  never  said  it  so  quite  exactly.  Say  it  now," 
pleads  he,  importunate. 

"  I  do — I  love  thee.  And  thou'rt  such  a  man  o' 
men  I  can  dare  tell  thee,  dear,  how  much  the  sum  of 
it  is ;  if  so  be  it  that  I  ever  could  measure  it  by 
speech.  I  love  thee  " — whispered  Pamela,  now  stand- 
ing under  the  mulberry  tree  with  her  lover's  arms 
about  her,  his  eyes  devouring  her  face — "  I  love  thy 
hands  because  they  are  so  capable  and  strong  and 
sure  and  swift  to  compass  and  enfold  me ;  thine  eyes, 
that  always  look  past  me  into  my  soul  to  see  what's 
writ  there;  thy  heart  that  beats  so  safe  for  me;  thy 
mind  that  thinks  so  tenderly  of  all  my  comfort  and 
my  pleasure;  thy  soul  that  is  clean  and  wholesome, 
brave  and  true ;  thy  beauty,  if  thou  hast  any,  which  is 
doubtful,"  she  laughed  tremulously  in  his  embrace, 
"  merely  because  'tis  thine ;  in  any  other  I'd  not  ac- 
count it  beauty,  most  like.  Ah,  heart  of  me,"  she 
faltered,  clinging  to  him  and  thus  raising  him  into  a 
paradise  of  ecstasy,  "  I  love  thee  because  thou  first 
loved  me;  because  thou  art  thou,  and  I  am  I;  and 
for  that  God  made  me  for  thee." 

"  And  me  for  thee,"  whispered  he. 

And  now  the  dawn  came  creeping  into  the  garden 


344  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

from  over  the  river  in  the  east,  and  knocking  at  their 

eyelids.    Harlowe  turned  from  her  slowly. 

Pamela  went  up  to  her  chamber. 

It  was  not  Godfrey  who  opened  for  either,  at  gate 
or  door.  Godfrey  was  from  home  no  one  knew  where, 
the  whole  day  long. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

THE    PASSWORD 

IT  may  easily  be  imagined  that  Sir  Toby  Spen- 
cer lost  no  time,  the  day  following  Mistress 
Congreve's    supper-party    and    the    untoward 
events  that  happened  there,  in  seeking  out  Kitty, 
and  imparting  to  her  the  news  which  her  father  had 
most  judiciously  kept  from  his  family;  of  the  duel 
to  be  between  my  Lord  Charteris  and  his  Grace  of 
Harlowe. 

When  Mistress  Kitty  heard  this  fact  and  the  other, 
far  more  important  to  her,  that  her  adored  Toby 
was  to  be  a  second  in  the  encounter,  she  uttered  a 
scream  of  so  piercing  a  quality  as  instantly  called 
down  both  her  mother  and  Betty  to  find  out  its 
cause. 

No  sooner  were  they  put  in  possession  of  the 
reason  than  Lady  Trevor  flew  off  to  wreak  her 
opinions  upon  her  lord  and  master,  and  Lady  Betty 
into  such  a  temper  as  was  never  before  witnessed  even 
by  her  friends  and  intimates. 

345 


346  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Charteris  and  Harlowe  both  to  fight  for  sake  of 
that  play-acting  jade,  forsooth!  Harlowe  that  had 
almost  asked  her  to  be  his  Duchess !  " 

"  Aye,  coz,  in  thy  dreams,  doubtless,  I  swear ; 
never  otherwise !  "  cried  Kitty. 

"  Dream  me  no  dreams,  you  little  minx ! "  said 
Betty.  "  Had  it  not  been  for  this  thief,  this  jewel- 
stealing  Congreve,  throwing  herself  into  Pelham's 
arms  last  Christmas  Eve,  I'd  now  be  Countess  of 
Charteris ! " 

"  Indeed,  you  would  not ! "  retorted  Miss  Kitty. 
"  Pamela's  no  thief,  and  well  you  know  it !  and  Char- 
teris is  a  rogue  of  the  very  first  water — a  footpad !  a 
highwayman !  a  blackguard !  There !  and  you  should 
go  down  on  your  knees  and  thank  Heaven  that  you 
are  not  his  Countess,  for  if  the  half  that  Toby  tells 
me  be  true,  he  is  worthy  of  a  yard  of  hemp  and  the 
highest  gibbet  in  England !  " 

"  Hold  your  tongue !  You  hussy !  "  cried  Lady 
Betty,  seizing  little  Kitty  and  administering  to  her 
as  sound  a  shaking  as  five-feet-eight  may  to  four- 
feet-ten.  "  You  dare  malign  the  gentleman  I  adore ! 
Who,  I  am  persuaded,  adores  me,  and  is  only  drawn 
into  this  duel  by  the  spiteful  machinations  of  this 
stroller!  Dare  to  say  one  syllable  more  against 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  347 

Charteris,  and  I'll  trounce  you  harder  yet !  "  Betty 
cast  her  cousin  into  the  arms  of  Sir  Toby,  and  found 
herself,  in  a  paroxysm  of  sobs,  upon  the  couch. 

"  I  dare  say  what  I  like,"  moaned  Kitty,  yet  with 
spirit.  "  Have  I  not  cause  enough  myself  to  weep 
and  lament,  and  my  Toby  to  be  second  at  this  woeful 
encounter;  and,  very  like,  a  ball  to  miss  one  of  the 
principals  and  perchance  hit  him  and  leave  me  a 
sobbin'  widow  before  I'm  married  at  all !  "  Sir  Toby 
now  quaked  in  his  boots.  "  Who's  to  take  care  of 
the  sweet  fellow,  tell  me  that?  "  cried  Kitty,  "  when 
to-morrow  at  sun-up  he  arrives  at  the  Greene  Shippe, 
you  mind  it?  at  Tamworth?  there  to  stand  a  target 
for  Earls  and  Dukes  to  fire  and  slash  at !  " 

"  Tamworth !  the  Greene  Shippe !  "  repeated  Betty, 
rising  from  the  couch.  "  I  do  remember  'twas  there 
Pelham  was  wounded  by  an  unknown  hand  so  long 
ago,  and  went  thence  to  France ;  the  place  bodes  him 
nothing  but  ill-luck — oh,  I  see  it  all,  he  will  be  killed ! 
killed ! "  But  when  she  saw  that  the  pair  of  lovers 
paid  but  scant  attention  to  her  fears,  she  went  on 
more  quietly,  "  I  am  going  to  Tamworth  to  the 
Greene  Shippe  myself!  I'll  be  there  by  sunrise,  too, 
and  if  the  screams  and  shrieks  of  a  lady  can  stop  a 
duel,  then  it  shall  be  accomplished." 


348  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  I'll  go  too ! "  cried  Kitty,  smiling  through  her 
tears.  "  And  if  lungs  can  compass  my  Toby's  safety, 
then,  Cousin  Betty,  I'll  shout  louder  than  you — my 
poor  dear  little  Toby !  " 

"  Aye,"  assented  the  baronet,  "  it  might  not  be 
amiss.  The  Fair  can  do  anything  with  us  when  they 
set  about  it.  Gad  knows !  Kitty,  you  know  that !  " 

So  it  was  that  these  ladies  planned  to  be  present 
when  the  Duke  and  the  Earl  should  meet  on  the 
morrow  at  Tamworth. 

Sir  Thomas  himself  had  determined  to  be  present ; 
had  already  arranged  to  take  the  surgeons  down 
from  London  in  his  own  travelling  chaise,  and  with 
this  in  view  he  left  Harlowe  House  that  afternoon 
for  town,  little  recking  that  his  daughter  and  his 
niece  would  present  themselves  before  him  at  the 
Greene  Shippe  at  dawn  the  next  morning. 

Pamela  slept  but  little  that  day  after  the  supper 
and  the  challenge.  Harlowe  wrote  to  her  in  the 
afternoon,  sending  posies  and  sweetmeats  and  a  box 
of  pearls  by  his  messenger. 

She  wrote  him  an  answer  and  pulled  the  rope  for 
Godfrey  to  carry  it,  when  Jess  came  in  to  say  that 
Godfrey  had  been  away  since  dawn.  One  of  the  other 
servants  had  seen  him  come  down  from  the  garret,  she 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  349 

thought,  and  make  off  toward  the  city  just  after 
showing  out  the  last  of  the  guests;  and  he  had  not 
yet  returned. 

It  was  now  nine  in  the  evening.  Pamela  was  not 
acting  this  week.  Sitting  between  Harlowe's  letter 
and  his  gifts,  her  thoughts  were  a  strange  turmoil 
of  joy  and  pain. 

What  if  now,  at  the  climax  of  their  happiness, 
Charteris'  weapon  should  rob  her  forever  of  her 
love?  What  if  that  weapon  should  leave  the  Duke 
blind,  or  maimed  in  some  frightful  fashion?  What 
if,  by  this  hour  to-morrow,  she  should  be  sitting  with 
his  cold  body  before  her,  gazing  on  his  dead  face  in 
a  passion  of  tears? 

Yet,  no ;  God  would  not  be  so  cruel.  "  Listen ; 
read  over,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  what  he  has  writ ; 
how  full  of  hope  and  brave  confidence ;  how  thought- 
ful, gentle,  tender." 

"  Dear,  my  love  and  lady,"  said  Harlowe's  letter, 
"  I  kiss  your  dainty  feet  and  hands  with  all  my 
thoughts,  so  vitally  that  indeed  I  feel  the  warmth 
and  softness  of  them  beneath  the  touch  of  my  fancy. 
It  is,  to  me,  a  score  of  months  since  I  set  eyes  upon 
you,  yet  by  reason's  lamp  I  am  assured  'twas  only 
last  night — nay,  this  morning  of  a  truth — that  I 


PAMELA    CONGREVE 

did  last  behold  you.  I  lay  down,  after  reaching 
home,  and  had  the  first  good  sleep  I  have  known  since 
December  twenty-fourth ;  awoke  refreshed,  for  under 
my  lids  the  image  of  your  adored  face  had  slept  with 
me,  fetching  me  such  a  riot  of  heavenly  dreams  as 
never  man  before  was  blest  withal.  I  have  spent 
some  time  in  thinking  over  my  plan  to  have  you  come 
to  the  Tamworth  Inn  to-morrow  morning;  but,  dear, 
my  life,  I'll  none  of  it.  No,  I'd  not  have  you  made 
subject  to  all  that's  very  like  to  occur  there,  since 
Charteris  will  most  probably  encounter  but  to  annoy 
and  besiege  you. 

"  Trust  to  me  there  will  no  harm  befall  me ;  I  have 
this,  hour  been  with  my  notary  and  made  over  my 
will,  therein  endowing  you  with  all  the  lands  and 
goods  I  do  possess  without  the  entail.  Rest  you  at 
home,  my  life's  sweetheart,  in  peace,  and  have  the 
certainty  that  I  will  be  with  you  by  noon  of  Thurs- 
day, safe  and  sound.  Should  I  get  a  prick  that 
might  disable  me,  I  have  planned  with  Mr.  Beauclerc 
that  he  will  fetch  you  to  me  in  his  travelling  coach 
within  the  hour,  if  'tis  accounted  by  the  surgeons  I 
am  not  in  a  condition  to  travel  to  you.  But  be  of 
a  comfortable  good  cheer,  for  no  surgeon  will  ever 
get  a  hand  upon  me,  I  swear,  since  I  wear  about  me 
the  armour  of  your  divine  love.  Believe  that  my 
arms  are  around  you,  pressing  you  to  me — Ah,  would 
to  God  they  were !  and  that  I  am  always  yours, 

"  HAELOWE." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  351 

Pam  had  scarcely  finished  reading  this  sheet  for 
the  hundredth  time,  when  a  rush  and  tumble  of  foot- 
steps, advancing  up  the  staircase  and  along  the 
corridor,  startled  her  from  her  reverie. 

An  impatient  scratch  was  heard  upon  the  door. 

"  Enter,"  she  said. 

And  in  ran  Godfrey  Gimbart,  a  strange  figure  in 
a  courtier's  dress,  a  steel  rapier,  stuck  full  of  mock 
jewels,  at  his  side;  a  long-curled,  powdered  wig  hang- 
ing awry  on  his  pate;  eyes  bulging,  lips  parted, 
cheeks  wan,  knees  knocking  and  unsteady. 

"  Alack,  Godfrey !  "  cried  his  mistress ;  "  is't  you  or 
is't  not?  " 

"  'Tis  I,  mistress,  and  none  other.  May  I  speak 
out  and  tell  you  all  ?  Is  none  about  ?  " 

"  Nay,  none,  even  Jess  is  in  the  kitchen.  God- 
frey ! "  cried  she,  closing  the  door  tightly,  "  is't 
aught  concerning  Lord  Charteris  and  the  Duke  ?  " 

The  boy  nodded,  still  panting  for  breath. 

"  Ah-h,"  she  exclaimed,  "  what  is  it  ?  Since  Christ- 
mas Eve,  when  you  warned  me  of  the  Earl  and  his 
companions  at  the  Tub  and  I  bade  you  haunt  their* 
tracks,  you've  never  brought  me  any  hint  further  of: 
evil — but  now,  what  is  it,  lad?  Speak,  speak,  and 
quickly." 


352  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  None  too  quickly,  mistress,"  answered  he.  "  'Tis 
thus — when  I  ushered  out  his  lordship  last  night 
after  the  encounter  at  the  supper,  it  fell  that  I  over- 
heard him  directing  of  his  chairmen  to  fetch  him  to 
the  Tub,  and  send  his  man  Pink  to  him  on  the  in- 
stant." 

"  Yes  ?  yes  ?  "  panted  Pam  eagerly,  "  and  you, 
boy  ?  you  ?  " 

"  Not  havin'  lived  mostly  at  the  playhouse  for 
nothin'  all  my  life,  I  up  to  your  chests,  mistress,  and 
jumps  into  these  garments,  this  hat  and  wig  and 
beard;  off  to  the  Tub  and  in,  swaggerin'  and 
speakin'  that  French  lingo  I  grew  up  with  in 
my  father's  shop;  mistook  by  all  present  for 
some  fellow  that  knew  but  little  of  the  English 
language " 

"  Ah,  good  boy ;  good  Godfrey ! "  cried  she,  pat- 
ting him.  "And  then?" 

"  I  invited  'em  all  to  drink,  including  my  Lord 
Charteris  and  his  friends,  two  middle-sized  persons 
of  a  low  degree,  and  Master  Pink,  who  was  at  his 
master's  elbow  when  I  arrived.  These  four  retired 
shortly  into  one  of  the  pavilions  as  they  call  'em, 
screened  cupboards  apart  from  the  rest  of  the  place ; 
and  me,  feigning  to  be  much  raised  by  the  wine,  into 


PAMELA    CONG  R  EVE  353 

the  one  adjoining,  with  maudlin  orders  to  the  drawer 
not  to  disturb  me  until  noon." 

"  Godfrey,  Godfrey,  you  heard — lad,  lad,  what  ?  " 

"  My  Lord  Charteris  and  Master  Pink  a-bar- 
gainin'  with  them  same  varlets  that  they  was  to  post- 
haste down  to  the  Greene  Shippe  at  Tamworth,  and 
there  keep  a  watch  for  when  the  Duke  should  be  seen 
a-comin'  in  his  coach  or  on  his  horse  as  might  be,  at 
dawn  to-morrow;  that  a  third  yet  to  come  was  the 
man  they  long  had  in  mind  to  do  the  deed,  and  he'd 
be  at  the  Inn  to  meet  'em.  They  were  to  point  him 
out  the  Duke,  he  to  shoot  him  dead  from  the  hedge, 
and  these  two  to  cover  the  assassin's  escape,  '  for,' 
said  the  Earl,  '  I'd  sooner  the  half  of  my  fortune 
gone  than  fight  a  duel.  I've  been  warned  of  it  by 
Cagliostro,  and  I'll  not  do  it ! '  " 

"  God  in  heaven !  "  cried  Pam,  frenzied.  "  God- 
frey, what  did  you  then  ?  Why  did  you  not  run  Lord 
Charteris  through  ?  " 

"  Lawk,  mistress,  I  did  better  'n  that !  Hist,  God- 
frey's true  to  you,  though  he  ain't  none  gentle  nor 
noble — but  he's  true.  I  lay  down  on  the  floor,  then, 
to  hear  the  better,  for  their  voices  now  ran  lower  and 
lower,  and  one  of  the  pair  asked,  '  How'll  we  know 
this  fellow  that's  to  do  for  his  Grace  of  Harlowe?  ' 


354  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

*  Tush,'  answered  the  Earl,  '  I've  given  him  a  pass- 
word to  you — 'tis  in  his  mind  now  these  three  months, 
He  who  waits  wins.'  'Why  goes  he  not  with  us?' 
asked  they.  *  Damn  you  for  fools ! '  answered  Lord 
Charteris,  *  because  'tis  safe  for  two  to  travel  to- 
gether, but  not  for  three ;  and  safer  still  for  you  to 
have  never  met,  and  thus  have  no  chances  for  chaffer, 
drink,  and  lose  the  job.  The  fellow's  bound  to  do  it, 
he's  young  and  a  devil,  and  will  never  fail,  but  if 
you  do  and  point  him  not  the  right  game,  'twill  be 
the  worse  for  you.  You  see  this  slip  of  paper?  On 
it  is  writ  the  password.  When  he  shows  you  this, 
show  him  Harlowe.' ' 

"  Godfrey !  and  'tis  now  nearing  eleven  o'clock, 
and  dawn's  at  four — and  Tamworth  thirty  miles 
away !  "  Pamela  wrung  her  hands. 

"  More,  mistress,  more — listen !  I  up  and  outside 
crawling,  waiting,  watching  in  the  shadow  of  the 
sentry  box.  I  see  the  two  varlets  come  out  and  up 
toward  the  Dials.  Presently  his  lordship  and  Pink 
at  the  portal  and  anon,  a  youngish  lad,  slim  and 
alert,  comes  around  the  corner  from  the  Crown;  the 
three  meet  and  to  him  Lord  Charteris  gives  the  paper 
with  the  password  on  't.  Mistress,  here  it  is!  here  ih 
is ! "  cried  Godfrey  in  triumph,  waving  the  dirty 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  S55 

scrap  before  Pam's  eyes.  "  I  tripped  him  up,  smoth- 
ered him  with  my  cloak,  rammed  the  hat  and  feathers 
almost  down  his  throat ;  pricked  him  in  the  legs,  gave 
him  a  ducking  in  the  kennel,  handed  him  over  to  my 
friend  in  the  sentry-box  as  a  footpad,  and  here  am 
I,  with  him  safe  behind  the  bars !  " 

"  But  the  other  two  ?  Godfrey,  boy,  they'll  murder 
the  Duke  themselves  to  gain  the  money,  even  if  this 
fellow  be  not  there!  Don't  you  see,  lad?  don't  you 
see?  They'll  never  incur  Lord  Charteris'  wrath 
and  the  loss  of  their  reward  for  the  lack  of  a  hand 
to  pull  a  trigger  at  a  defenceless  gentleman  riding 
by." 

Godfrey  stood  paralysed.  He  had  gone  his 
length,  and  in  face  of  the  logical  sequence  was  stag- 
gered and  utterly  incapacitated;  he  burst  into  tears 
at  realisation  of  his  own  failure,  the  more  poignant 
that  he  had  imagined  himself  at  last  as  of  some  great 
use  and  blessing  to  the  lady  whom  he  secretly  adored. 

"  Nay,  Godfrey,  listen.  Someone  must  go  to 
Tamworth  with  this  password  in  his  hand;  must 
feign  to  be  the  hireling  of  Lord  Charteris;  must 
make  those  two  varlets  believe  that  he's  the  assassin ; 
must  feign  to  kill  the  Duke — must  save  him — oh, 
Godfrey,  can  you  do  this  ?  For  see !  by  the  clock  'tis 


356  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

too  late  to  stop  his  Grace;  already  he  has  started, 
for  he  told  me  he  should  set  forth  at  midnight  so  as 
to  take  it  leisurely  and  reach  the  place  a  full  hour 
before  the  time.  Can  you  do  it  ?  Can  you  ?  "  His 
mistress  shook  him  gently  by  the  shoulder. 

He  looked  up  at  her  piteously.  "  Nay,  mistress," 
returned  he,  sobbing,  "  Godfrey  cannot  do  this." 

"  Then,"  said  Pam  with  sudden  splendid  resolu- 
tion, "  I  must.  Either  I'll  overtake  his  Grace,  if 
Heaven  grant  me  to  choose  the  same  road  that  he  did, 
or  I'll  play  at  being  this  hireling  of  Lord  Charteris', 
and  beat  him  at  his  own  game !  " 

Godfrey  fell  upon  his  knees,  begging  her  not  to 
adventure  her  own  safety;  but  quickly,  firmly  she 
bade  him,  even  while  she  began  to  lay  off  bodice  and 
petticoats,  "  Up,  lad,  up,  to  the  little  closet  where 
all  my  costumes  are  stored;  fetch  me  the  rustic's 
suit  of  brown  fustian  hanging  on  the  peg  behind 
the  door,  you  mind,  the  one  I  wore  in  '  The  Beau  of 
the  Village '  ?  The  auburn  wig,  the  slouched  beaver, 
the  stick  and  bundle  all  are  there !  together  with  the 
boots  and  belt.  Tarry  not,  Godfrey !  " 

Godfrey  did  not  tarry,  but  was  back  in  a  trice  with 
the  garments.  Pamela  took  them  in  at  the  door 
only  a  little  ajar,  for  she  stood  behind  it  in 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  357 

her  smock  waiting  impatiently  to  jump  into  man's 
estate. 

"  Lad,"  she  cried,  pulling  on  the  boots  and  ad- 
justing the  wig  over  the  tightly  plaited  masses  of 
her  dark  hair,  "  off  to  the  King's  Arms  and,  here's 
my  purse,  leave  the  price  of  the  fastest  horse  in  the 
stables,  fetch  him  here  saddled;  by  the  time  you'll  be 
back,  I'll  be  ready." 

"  A  gentlewoman's  saddle?  "  asked  the  lad,  blush- 
ing. 

"  Nay,  by  Heaven !  a  gentleman's  saddle !  Away 
with  you ! " 

It  was  not  for  nothing  that  Pam  had  been  used  to 
ride  the  horses  to  water  long  ago  when  she  was  a 
barmaid  at  the  Greene  Shippe. 

Godfrey  was  no  sooner  back  with  the  horse  than 
there  met  him  at  the  garden  gate  a  lithe  and  slender 
lad  in  fustian,  red-cheeked,  auburn-curled,  booted, 
spurred ;  within,  next  his  heart,  a  scrap  of  paper  in 
Lord  Charteris'  handwriting;  and  such  an  eager 
zeal  of  set  purpose  on  his  countenance  as  must  spell, 
to  anyone  who  looked  at  it,  the  word  success. 

A  foot  in  the  stirrup,  a  steady  hand  on  the  pom- 
mel, a  spring,  a  seat  as  firm  as  any  gallant's ;  a 
prick  at  the  roan's  flank,  a  swerve  into  the  roadway, 


358  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

a  prance,  "  God  keep  you,  mistress !  "  from  the  serv- 
ing-man's affrighted 'lips,  and  Pam  was  up,  off,  and 
out  of  London  town  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  to 
save  her  lover's  life;  the  password  upon  her  lips  in 
constant  repetition;  in  her  heart  a  prayer  that  she 
might  not  be  too  late ! 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

A   BIDE    FOE   A    LIFE 

MY    LORD     CHARTERIS'    men    rode 
up  toward  the  Greene  Shippe  before 
dawn,  yet  not  so  early  but  that  lights 
were  already  glimmering  in  the  piece  of  woodland 
behind  the  tavern.     Heathcote,   Sir  Thomas,  Lord 
Rawdon,  Sir  Toby,  and  presently  others  appeared  on 
the  field.     It  would  be  idle  to  attempt  to  paint  the 
wrath  of  Sir  Thomas,  the  terror  of  Toby,  the  wilful- 
ness  of  Kitty — most  of  all,  the  temper  of  Lady  Betty 
Wyndham. 

At  the  Inn  all  was  quiet,  and  the  two  desperadoes 
lurked  watchfully  in  the  shadow  of  the  stables,  await- 
ing the  arrival  of  the  third  man,  who  was  to  do  a 
deed  held  to  be  beyond  their  capacity.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  pair  of  knaves  were  engaged  in  their 
first  case  of  outright  acquaintance  with  murder,  and 
were  secretly  glad  that  neither  of  them  was  detailed 
to  fire  a  fatal  shot.  They  were  only  anxious  to  see 

359 


360  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

the  thing  accomplished  and  to  receive  their  portion 
of  the  covenanted  reward. 

Presently,  putting  on  a  swaggering  front  and 
larding  their  conversation,  for  the  benefit  of  those 
who  might  happen  to  be  within,  with  the  genteelest 
oaths  they  knew,  the  two  worthies  pushed  open  the 
door  of  the  taproom  and  entered  in  quest  of  refresh- 
ment— keeping  both  ears  open,  it  is  true,  for  the 
sound  of  hoofs  or  wheels. 

They  found  the  place  deserted.  Dame  Dormer, 
with  her  husband  and  all  the  train  of  maids  and  men, 
was  out  in  the  offices  and  buttery,  preparing  a  store 
of  food  against  the  hour  when,  the  duel  being  over, 
all  this  mob  of  quality  should  be  in  need  of  sus- 
tenance. 

The  two  varlets  surveyed  the  premises  carefully, 
and  then  without  a  word  helped  themselves  and  drank 
with  relish  of  the  best  they  found.  It  was  not  too 
long  before,  overcome  by  their  potations  combined 
with  the  fatigue  of  their  arduous  ride,  they  fell  into 
a  maudlin  half-sleep  on  the  settle  in  the  chimney- 
place;  and  not  even  the  hasty  gallop  of  a  horse 
which  ceased  at  the  door  could  do  more  than  partially 
arouse  them. 

One    murmured    to    the    other,    "  Mayhap    the 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  361 

quarry's  come ! "  and  turned  his  head  upon  the 
rail. 

He  got  but  a  drowsy  answer  from  his  companion, 
"  Have  done !  Let's  bide,  until  the  young  blade  ar- 
rives as  is  to  do  the  job." 

And  there,  dozing  by  the  fire,  as  she  opened  the 
door  of  the  room  she  had  once  known  so  well,  Pamela 
beheld  them.  By  a  subtle  instinct,  as  much  as  by 
Godfrey's  description  of  the  precious  pair,  she  knew 
who  they  were. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  leave  them  sleeping  and  go 
forth  to  meet  Harlowe  and  turn  him  back.  Indeed, 
she  was  tiptoeing  out  when  one  of  the  desperadoes 
opened  his  eyes  and  challenged  her. 

"  A  friend,"  she  answered,  adding  very  low  in  the 
man's  ear,  "  He  who  waits  wins !  " 

Both  of  them  were  up  with  a  start.  "  You're  come 
at  last !  "  they  whispered.  "  Show  us  the  paper." 

"  'Tis  here,"  she  answered  assuredly,  and  held  up 
before  their  eyes  the  scrap  of  the  Earl's  handwriting. 
"  Has  the  Duke  arrived?  "  she  asked,  her  heart  beat- 
ing madly  and  her  slender  legs  trembling  under  her  in 
their  breeches.  The  men  shook  their  heads.  "  Like 
to  soon,  eh — any  moment?  "  she  went  on. 

The  woman  in  her  craved  for  instant  flight,  if  it 


362  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

might  have  been  with  safety  to  her  lover.  But  Pam 
was  no  ordinary  woman ;  and,  with  a  throb  of  fierce 
remembrance,  she  felt  the  red  blood  of  splendid 
courage  and  dauntless  purpose  flood  up  into  her 
cheeks. 

"  Bah !  "  she  laughed,  her  training  behind  the  foot- 
lights helping  her  to  the  perfect  assumption  of  the 
part  she  had  to  play.  "  Why  pull  such  solemn  faces  ? 
'Tis  I  am  to  do  it,  not  you.  And  by  Heaven !  as  true 
is  it  that  no  man  ever  rode  as  I  have  ridden  to  reach 
here  in  time,  so  true  it  is  I'll  lay  down  my  life  to  ac- 
complish the  mission  I  set  out  to  do !  Come,  come ! 
To  business!  Am  I  to  do  it  from  here  or  from 
there?  "  She  pointed  outward  to  the  hedge. 

"  From  yonder,"  one  of  the  knaves  replied. 
"  We're  to  watch  and  signal  you  hence  when  his 
Grace's  coach  is  seen.  There's  like  to  be  a  dozen  of 
fine  gentlemen  in  these  parts  to-day,  and  you  could 

not  know  which  one.     We'll  wave  a  kerchief,  thus; 

i 
you,  yonder,  fire.    Then  you  run  like  a  rabbit  to  the 

wood's  edge  beyond,  to  the  eastward;  we  cover  the 
deed  by  rushing  out  to  his  Grace's  assistance,  making 
as  much  commotion  as  we  can,  and  relieving  him  of 
his  valuables — since  'tis  to  the  cause  of  highwaymen 
the  thing's  to  be  laid." 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  363 

Pam  raised  her  head  and  listened.  "  No  wheels  to 
be  heard  yet.  Let's  drink  to  the  health  of  all  good 
men  and  true." 

"  Nay,"  they  returned  doubtfully,  "  better  not  a 
drop  more." 

"  Fie  on  you ! "  she  cried,  drawing  and  filling  as 
aptly  as  ever  she  did.  "  But  two  such  brave  lads 
must  drink  once  with  a  comrade.  I  swear,  if  ye  will 
not,  I'll  make  you ! "  She  thought  desperately  to 
herself,  "  I  must  e'en  muddle  'em  well,  or  they  will 
discern  my  feigning  from  the  window  and  defeat 
me."  Then  she  cried  aloud,  "  Here's  to  the  King ! 
Ye  cannot  choose  but  drink  that ! "  And  all  the 
while  her  ears  strained  for  the  sound  of  his  horse- 
hoofs,  the  wheels  of  his  chaise. 

"  No  more,  no  more,"  laughed  the  older  of  the 
pair,  yet  holding  out  his  mug. 

"  Ah,  here's  to  the  poor  and  the  wretched — drink 
that,  too.  Down  with  the  rich — the  devil  catch 
'em ! "  Pamela's  voice  rang  gaily  out,  though  her 
heart  beat  pitifully. 

"  Aye,  the  devil  catch  'em,"  grunted  the  man. 
"  Charteris  ain't  a-payin'  us  as  he  should." 

"  Trust  me,  comrade,"  cried  Pam,  "  I'll  make  him 
pay  dearer  than  he  promised.  I  swear  that  to  you — 


364  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

and  'tis  I  should  know.  Come,  come,  now — here's  to 
Merrie  England !  A  bumper !  " 

"  Merrie  England !  "  shouted  the  trio,  Pam's  voice 
louder  than  theirs,  as  she  lifted  her  mug  high  above 
her  head. 

"  A  plague  on  you ! "  growled  the  rascal  who  had 
kept  his  senses  the  better  of  the  two,  spilling  it  on 
the  floor.  "  You've  to  shoot  to  the  death  this  day, 
and  a-drinkin'  like  this!  Another  drop,  and  you'll 
fail  of  your  aim !  "  Yet  for  all  his  prudent  counsels, 
he  drained  his  own  mug  to  the  dregs. 

"Fail!  I  fail?"  cried  Pam.  "Fools!  ye  your- 
selves may  have  leave  to  run  me  through  if  I  fail  to 
reach  the  Duke  of  Harlowe's  head  within  the  hour. 
Hist,  I  say !  Hear  ye  not  wheels  ?  " 

The  younger  man  trolled  out  a  gay  stave  for 
answer : 

"  For  a  man,  a  man,  he  must  get  his  pay — 
The  rich,  the  rich,  he  has  had  his  day!" 

And  he  reeled  over  to  embrace  his  partner,  by  this 
time  as  far  gone  as  himself. 

"  Aye !  "  cried  Pam,  feeling  that  now  was  her  mo- 
ment. "  See  you  not,  just  at  the  turn,  the  cloud  of 
dust?  And  hear  ye  not  the  grind  of  wheels,  the  clash 
of  hoofs  ?  " 


PAMELA    CONGREV E  365 

Both  men  shuffled  to  the  window,  wagged  their 
heads  sagely,  and  telescoped  their  shaking  hands  to 
stare. 

"  We  sees  nothing,"  they  blurted  out  in  concert. 

"Damn  ye!  are  ye  both  blind?"  she  hurried  on. 
"  Look !  a  chaise  spinning  round  the  corner  of  the 
lane — the  postilions  a-pricking  of  their  beasts — the 
sun  just  rising  on  the  panes,  and  a  plumed  hat  within 
there !  Don't  ye  see  it — don't  ye?  " 

"  'Fore  Heaven ! "  gulped  the  elder  man  in  his 
throat,  "  I've  drunk  so  much  I  can't  tell  if  I  see  or 
don't  see ! " 

"  Aye,  that's  true,"  assented  the  other  with  an 
idiotic  laugh,  as  he  stumbled  over  his  companion's 
feet. 

"  'Tis  the  Duke's  coach,  and  the  Duke  within  it ! " 

cried  Pam.  "  I  must  away "  And  she  rushed 

to  the  door,  as  if  she  beheld  the  object  of  their 
schemes. 

"  Hold  hard ! "  mumbled  the  older  man,  still  half 
master  of  his  wits.  "  This  young  blade  knows  not 
Harlowe  when  he  sees  him,  and  may  send  some  other 
to  heaven  by  mistake." 

"  Not  know  Harlowe  when  I  see  him ! "  cried  she 
fiercely.  "  Let  me  go !  I  know  him  by  heart !  I've 


366  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

no  need  of  you  at  all !  "  She  slipped  free  of  her  com- 
panions with  a  last  desperate  effort.  "  Aye,  stir  not 
— and  by  Gad!  in  less  than  sixty  seconds  you  shall 
hear  a  shot,  and  by  its  token  know  that  I  have  kept 
my  word ! " 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

SHOT    THROUGH    THE    HEART 

SHE  vaulted  over  the  half-door  like  a  lad,  leav- 
ing the  pair  looking  askance  at  one  another, 
and  vainly  endeavouring  to  stare  steadily 
at  the  road,  their  sight  being  more  befuddled  than 
their  brains.  They  soon  abandoned  the  effort,  and 
stood  mute,  waiting  for  the  pistol's  click  from  the 
hedge. 

It  came  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  set  it  down — 
the  snap  of  the  trigger,  the  report,  the  smoke  float- 
ing over  the  hedge  and  road. 

The  men  nodded  to  one  another — but  before  a 
word  could  be  exchanged,  Pamela  was  back  over  the 
door,  and  stood  between  them,  tossing  her  hat  in  the 
air. 

"  Shot  through  the  head?  "  asked  one  with  a  lee* 
and  a  laugh. 

"  Nay,  by  Heaven !     Shot  through  the  heart ! " 

answered  she  triumphantly. 

367 


368  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Then  you  be  off,  nor  waste  time,  and  risk  your 
neck  here  longer.  We're  paid  to  see  you  safe — else 
you  might  be  caught  and  peach  who  hired  you,  in 
face  of  a  gibbet !  " 

Pamela  shrank  at  the  word,  and  left  the  room — 
but  only  to  hide  in  the  outer  office  back  of  the  tap- 
room, for  even  yet  she  felt  by  no  means  certain  that 
the  Duke  was  safe. 

Nor  was  he. 

A  travelling  carriage  containing  my  Lord  Char- 
teris  rolled  into  the  Inn  yard  exactly  at  the  moment 
that  Pamela  sped  out  of  the  taproom.  He  alighted 
with  the  easy  nonchalance  of  a  gentleman  arriving 
at  the  place  set  for  an  affair  of  honour.  Pink  as- 
sisted him;  and  while  the  valet  was  giving  a  few 
haughty  directions  to  the  hostler  and  Oliver  Dormer, 
his  master  entered  the  room  where  his  two  hirelings 
were.  At  once  his  manner  changed.  There  was  a 
second  of  intense  anxious  inquiry  as  he  looked  into 
their  faces. 

The  taller  fellow  answered  his  unspoken  ques- 
tion. "  The  little  weasel  your  lordship  sent  has 
done  it." 

"  Thank  God ! "  exclaimed  the  Earl  piously.  "  And 
he's  gone?  "  The  men  jerked  their  thumbs  over  their 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  369 

shoulders,  and  laughed.  "  What  are  you  here  for, 
then  ?  "  he  inquired  with  suspicion.  "  Have  you  al- 
ready been  without  and  covered  his  escape?  Have 
you  seen  him?  Was't  cleanly  done?  Is  he  dead?  " 

Both  ruffians  nodded,  and  now  for  the  first  time 
Charteris  saw  their  condition.  A  flame  of  anger 
leaped  into  his  eyes — but  with  it  fear  rushed  into  his 
heart.  His  lips  parted  to  speak,  when  the  faces  of 
the  pair  of  bullies,  as  the  door  creaked  behind  his 
back,  assumed  such  an  expression  of  helpless  terror 
as  made  him  turn  instinctively. 

The  Duke  of  Harlowe  stood  there,  hat  in  hand. 
"  Your  servant,  my  lord,"  he  said  with  the  utmost 
courtesy.  "  We  are  both  to  the  minute.  Shall  we 
to  the  field  where  the  others  await  us?  I  have  but 
now  left  them." 

In  the  flash  of  a  second  Charteris'  thought  sped  to 
the  minds  of  the  pair.  It  mingled  with  their  own 
greed  and  their  own  interests,  sobering  them  on  the 
spot.  The  gentleman's  lust  of  blood,  the  black- 
guard's lust  of  gain,  mated  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.  With  the  brute  impulse  of  a  common  cause,  each 
of  the  three  drew  his  sword,  all  feeling  that  they  had 
been  tricked. 

Harlowe,  taken  at  this  foul  disadvantage,  never- 


370          PAMELA    CONGREVE 

theless  had  his  weapon  from  its  sheath  almost  as  soon 
as  his  three  opponents. 

An  intense  silence  brooded  over  the  low-ceiled 
room,  broken  only  by  the  clash  of  steel  and  the  heavy 
breathing  of  the  four  men. 

'Twas  parry!  thrust!  riposte!  guard!  a  plunge! 
a  backward  throw — truly  a  fearful  odds  and  a  con- 
test without  parallel!  Now  the  Earl  gained,  flung 
back  his  handsome  head,  and  was  the  first  to  break 
the  silence. 

"  Ha,  Duke !  "  he  muttered,  "  Cagliostro  bade  me 
avoid  the  duello  as  I  would  the  plague — but  this  is 
not  that  sort  of  sport ! "  Then  he  fell  back  to  let 
his  minions  finish  the  work. 

But  Harlowe,  at  his  shoulder,  his  arm  thrust  under 
his  opponent's,  snatches  from  a  pocket  the  dirk 
whose  handle  he  had  seen  gleaming  there.  With  his 
rapier  in  his  right,  and  this  new  weapon  in  his 
left,  he  slashed  out,  fighting  for  his  life  and  the 
lady  of  his  heart  with  every  ounce  of  strength  he 
possessed. 

At  last  he  had  wounded  the  taller  ruffian.  It  was 
now  but  the  smaller,  and  Lord  Charteris,  that  harried 
him  with  the  same  relentless  fury. 

"  By  God !  "  hissed  Charteris  between  his  set  teeth. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  371 

"  Kill  him !  kill  him ! — or  I'll  cut  your  damned  heart 
out  of  you !  " 

"  By  God !  "  Harlowe  flung  back  at  him,  "  neither 
he  nor  you  shall  kill  me  yet !  "  He  was  almost  spent 
by  the  unequal  conflict,  but  unwounded,  save  for  a 
few  slight  pricks. 

"  Ha ! "  cried  Pelham  louder,  perceiving  his  ad- 
vantage, "  here's  for  Pamela  Congreve !  "  And  up 
went  his  arm  in  the  curving  lunge  that  had  made  him 
the  terror  of  every  enemy  he  had. 

Then  in  at  the  half-door,  springing  over,  came 
the  slight  figure  of  a  girl  in  boy's  clothes.  She 
dashed  between  them,  and  the  Earl's  blade  cut  a  long 
gash  in  her  white  arm,  and  the  ruffian's  lunge 
knocked  her  almost  over — knocked  the  hat  and  au- 
burn wig  from  her  head,  but  not  the  scrap  of  dirty 
paper  from  her  fingers. 

"  Pamela !  "  cried  Dudleigh,  every  pulse  of  his  body 
thrilling  with  new  strength  at  sight  of  her.  He  seized 
her  and  thrust  her  back,  so  that  she  should  not  stand 
between  him  and  any  danger. 

And  "  Pamela ! "  muttered  Charteris,  too,  drop- 
ping his  rapier  sullenly. 

"  Aye,  Pamela,  my  Lord  Charteris !  "  she  answered 
coldly,  for  all  the  pain  in  her  arm,  sweeping  him  a 


372  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

magnificent  curtsey  in  her  breeches.  "  Let  me  render 
you  this."  She  held  out  the  bit  of  his  own  writing. 
"  Go  you  back  to  town,  and  take  with  you  a  present 
from  me — your  life!  By  the  heaven  above  us,  my 
lord,  if  you  had  your  desserts,  which  I  could  give 
you,  you'd  swing  from  the  tallest  gallows  in  Eng- 
land !  Begone !  "  she  cried,  with  a  blaze  of  splendid 
contempt,  "  and  take  your  miserable  hirelings  with 
you!" 

He  was  a  gentleman  of  a  considerable  degree  of 
prudence.  He  bowed  to  her  and  left  the  place.  The 
ruffian  had  not  tarried  so  long,  but,  on  Pamela's 
appearance,  had  helped  his  companion  to  his  feet 
and  fled  with  him. 

Pamela  Congreve  and  the  Duke  of  Harlowe  stood 
face  to  face  on  the  very  spot  which  had  witnessed 
their  first  meeting.  Both  remembered  it  well. 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  for  just  a  moment,  de- 
voured with  anxious  fears  for  her  safety — she, 
shamefaced  and  flushing  at  her  boyish  garments. 
One  glance  into  each  other's  eyes — and  then  he  went 
to  call  the  surgeons  and  see  to  it  that  her  wound  was 
dressed,  and  not  so  very  serious. 

And  then  Pamela  told  her  lover  all,  while  he  held 
her  two  hands  in  his. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  373 

It  was  not  much  that  he  said — some  men  are  char- 
iest of  words  when  their  feelings  run  the  deepest. 
When  she  told  him  how  she  had  said  to  them  that 
he  was  shot  through  the  heart,  he  laughed  a  little, 
held  up  her  face  between  his  palms  and  answered: 
"  Aye,  Sweetlips,  shot  through  the  heart,  here  in 
this  very  room — the  first  time  I  heard  thy  voice — for 
thy  face  I  did  not  see !  " 

And  Pam  laughed,  too. 

Master  Pink,  lurking  outside  near  the  window, 
heard  this  laugh ;  for  Lord  Charteris,  prudent  though 
he  was,  and  master  of  most  of  the  situations  of  his 
chequered  career,  was  headlong  in  his  love,  and,  for 
reasons  of  his  own,  still  lingered  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  Greene  Shippe. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

PINK  AND   HIS   MASTEE 

NATURALLY  enough,  when  the  call  came 
for  surgeons  it  created  a  panic  in  the 
minds  of  those  who  were  at  the  rendez- 
vous,   especially    the   two    young    ladies    who    were 
crouching  behind  a  clump  of  trees,  awaiting,  in  fear 
and  trembling,  the  moment  when  the  duel   should 
begin. 

All  rushed  to  the  Inn ;  and  in  the  commotion  it  was 
well  along  towards  nightfall  before  the  company 
had  become  acquainted  with  the  whole  of  the  situ- 
ation— or  with  what  they  thought  was  the  whole  of 
it.  To  none  but  Beauclerc  did  Pam  confide  the  true 
history  of  Charteris'  plot,  leaving  Lady  Betty  to 
a  vast  thankfulness  that  the  Earl  was  alive  and  un- 
harmed. 

Pamela  was  for  going  back  to  London  at  once, 
but  none  would  listen  to  this.  She  was  in  a  condition 
likely  to  breed  fever  in  her  wound,  and  so  exhausted 

874 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  375 

by  her  ride  and  the  events  of  the  morning  that  the 
surgeons  shook  their  heads  and  augured  nothing  but 
ill  effects  should  she  attempt  a  journey. 

It  was  therefore  agreed  that  Sir  Thomas  and  his 
niece,  with  Toby  and  some  of  the  other  gentlemen, 
should  go  to  Harlowe  House  to  allay  Lady  Trevor's 
suspense,  while  Pamela  and  Kitty  should  remain  over- 
night, under  Mistress  Dormer's  wing,  at  the  Greene 
Shippe.  Harlowe,  Beauclerc,  and  Rawdon  insisted  on 
occupying  the  other  side  of  the  tavern  themselves. 

Much  of  this  information  Pink  was  even  now  im- 
parting to  his  master,  who  sat  in  his  post-chaise 
drawn  up  on  the  heath  under  cover  of  the  cliffs,  about 
a  half-mile  from  the  Inn. 

The  heath  bordered  the  sea ;  at  least,  it  ran  smooth 
and  green  to  the  edge  of  the  escarpment.  Looking 
over,  one  could  perceive  at  low  tide,  as  it  was  now, 
the  inlet  between  the  great  beetling  crags,  and  the 
dull,  shallow  waters  crawling  in  the  fissure  up  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Smuggler's  Cave. 

Charteris  knew  the  neighbourhood  well ;  knew  every 
path  and  possible  roadway  thereabouts. 

"  And,  Pink,"  said  he,  alighting  as  the  twilight 
was  beginning  to  gather,  "  I  think  you  may  have 
them  fetch  the  coach  to  the  head  of  the  lane  after 


376  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

me  without  fear  when  midnight's  just  past.  I'll  put 
you  in  charge  within,"  he  laughed,  "  for  the  nonce, 
and  I'll  take  postilion's  place  myself.  None  knows 
these  roads  as  I  do,  and  damme!  if  we  don't  gain 
port  before  daylight,  and  take  ship  for  Holland  by 
sunrise  to-morrow,  I'm  not  Earl  of  Charteris !  "  Pink 
bowed  his  head. 

"  All  you  have  to  do,"  continued  the  Earl,  "  is 
just  as  I've  rehearsed  to  you;  the  other  men  are 
safe?  " 

"  If  your  lordship  has  paid  'em,  they  are,"  re- 
marked the  valet  laconically.  "  If  your  lordship 
hasn't,  then  they  ain't." 

"  I  gave  'em  their  wages  last  night  before  we  set 
out  from  town,"  answered  the  master.  "  By  Gad ! 
they  refused  to  drive  me  if  I  didn't." 

"  Where's  mine?  "  inquired  Pink,  stopping  short 
in  his  task  of  rubbing  the  mud  from  his  lordship's 
cloak. 

*'  I  don't  know,  Pink.  Zounds !  Don't  begin  to 
nag  me  now,  when  you  know  what's  to  the  touch  this 
night." 

"  It  is  just  now  I  will,  though,"  retorted  the  man. 
"  I  get  my  wage  here  now,  or  I  quits,  and  then  how'll 
you  run  off  with  a " 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  377 

"  Damn  you !  Hush !  "  exclaimed  Charteris,  his 
hand  over  Pink's  mouth.  "  How  much  do  you 
want?" 

"  All,"  returned  the  man  stubbornly. 

"  Rot  me !  No.  See  here,  twenty  pounds,  and  I'll 
fetch  you  with  me  abroad,  recoup  there,  and  give  you 
all  you  want !  "  Pink  shook  his  head  carelessly,  but 
firmly.  "  Pink,  you  know  what  a  strait  of  madness 
I'm  in  for  Mistress  Congreve;  rob  me  not  of  all  the 
money  I  must  have  to  go  away  with." 

"  I  has  my  wage  in  full,"  remarked  the  man,  "  or 
you  stops  here — alone." 

Charteris  gave  him  all  he  wanted. 

"  You  damnable  dog !  "  he  muttered,  "  if  you  play 
me  any  tricks  like  that  fellow  of  the  shooting  did,  I'll 
carve  you  up  alive !  " 

Pink  bowed  and  smiled,  and  walked  off  toward 
the  Greene  Shippe  to  gather  what  more  news  he 
could  by  dint  of  eavesdropping,  and  chattering 
with  such  of  the  maids  as  had  not  seen  him  in  the 
morning. 

When  he  presently  sauntered  back  to  the  heath 
with  a  pocketful  of  provisions  he  was  able  to  inform 
Lord  Charteris  which  of  the  company  was  remaining 
over  night,  the  rooms  they  were  to  occupy,  and  the 


378  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

locations  of  the  closets  where  slept  Mistress  Dormer 
and  her  spouse ;  also  that  the  maids  were  all  bestowed 
in  the  garret,  the  men  over  the  stables,  and  that  not 
a  dog  was  now  kept  at  the  Greene  Shippe. 


1 


CHAPTER    XXXVII 

A  THIEF  IN  THE  NIGHT 

prayers  of  the  most  unrighteous  are 
sometimes  seemingly  answered  at  their 
will.  My  Lord  Charteris  had  hoped  that 
the  moon  might  be  clouded  over  during  the  hours  in 
which  he  tarried  restless,  in  and  out  of  his  chaise,  on 
Chilton  Heath,  and,  in  truth,  there  had  not  been  a 
darker  night  in  a  month. 

It  was  midnight  now,  and  he  started  forth  with 
quick  and  nervous  pace,  swinging  westward  away 
from  the  sea,  a  half-mile  in  toward  Tamworth  vil- 
lage ;  leaving  the  chaise  to  follow  slowly,  Pink  within, 
lolling  like  a  fine  gentleman,  while  the  two  postilions 
sat  like  statues  on  their  mounts. 

The  whole  country-side  slept  in  peace;  not  the 
bleat  of  a  lamb,  or  the  low  of  a  cow,  disturbed  the 
stillness  or  interrupted  the  Earl's  walk,  or  the  pro- 
ceeding of  his  vehicle. 

Once  in  a  while  either  he  or  his  man  struck  a  light 
379 


380  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

to  gauge  their  exact  whereabouts,  but  neither  of 
them  broke  silence  by  a  single  syllable  as  they  went 
on  their  way  across  the  heath  in  the  direction,  it 
would  now  appear,  of  the  lane  at  the  end  of  which 
lay  the  Inn. 

There,  too,  all  was  quiet.  A  single  candle  burned 
in  the  middle  of  a  bowl  of  water  where  Kitty  slept, 
affirming  that  she  would  be  ready  should  Pamela  call 
from  the  adjoining  chamber,  or  want  anything  dur- 
ing the  night ;  its  puny  gleam  shot  a  ray  out  into  the 
Inn  yard,  and  struck  at  the  eyelids  of  one  who  now 
stealthily  entered  there,  pausing  at  the  arch  to  glance 
back,  and  give  utterance  to  a  low,  but  protracted, 
whistle,  which  was  answered  by  its  duplicate  from 
apparently  but  a  short  distance  away. 

The  solitary  figure  advanced  toward  the  door  of 
the  Inn  with  the  utmost  caution,  choosing  carefully, 
by  the  touch  of  his  foot,  just  those  stones  that  were 
smoothest  to  tread,  and  guiding  himself  by  his 
hands  against  the  house  walls  until  he  reached 
the  door.  With  firm  fingers  he  tried  the  latch,  and 
found  it,  as  was  the  custom  of  the  times  in  country- 
side taverns,  yielding  to  his  will;  he  raised  it 
cautiously,  pushed  open  the  door  with  his  knee,  and 
entered. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  381 

Striking  a  spark  from  a  piece  of  tinder  within  his 
hat,  he  glanced  about  to  take  his  bearings. 

Here,  close  at  hand,  was  the  staircase;  he  stepped 
forward,  and  looked  up  its  winding  square;  above, 
just  at  the  head,  he  could  discern  the  glint  of  candle- 
light shining  through  the  crack  beneath  a  shrunken 
door;  and  next  this  door,  another,  where  no  hint  of 
light  gave  out. 

He  blew  out  his  flame,  replaced  his  hat;  and,  his 
feet  bound  up  in  strips  of  velvet  from  his  cloak,  now 
ascended  the  stairs  with  a  certain  degree  of  assurance. 
When  he  reached  the  first  landing,  with  its  round 
window,  the  moon,  laggard  though  she  had  been  so 
far,  sailed  forth  from  among  the  clouds,  and  rode 
on  high,  resplendent,  as  if  to  light  the  way  for  the 
man  with  the  muffled  feet. 

He  paused  at  Mistress  Kitty's  door,  to  hear  her 
sigh  and  turn  upon  her  pillows,  dreaming,  doubtless, 
of  Sir  Toby. 

Then  he  glanced  at  the  great  white  disclosing 
reaches  of  the  moonlight,  both  without  and  within; 
heard  a  sound  of  slow  wheels,  a  smothered  "  Whoa !  " 
and  muttered,  "  Damn  them ! "  under  his  breath. 
Then,  noting  that  the  moon  had  conquered  every 
cloud  in  the  wide  spring  sky,  he  laid  his  hand  upon 


382  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

the  latch  of  Pamela's  door,  pulled  it  up,  went  in  and 
saw  her  lying  in  her  bed,  the  down  cover  over  her,  her 
wounded  arm  without  it,  and  the  other  raised,  girl 
fashion,  over  her  pretty  head. 

Her  breathing  was  as  regular  as  a  child's,  and  he 
could  see  the  counterpane  rise  and  fall  upon  her 
bosom ;  see  the  little  smile  that  hovered  on  her  lips ; 
see  the  long  sweep  of  her  hair  upon  the  pillows ;  see 
the  rise  of  her  pretty  upturned  feet  at  the  foot  of 
the  bed. 

He  was  an  epicurean  to  the  core  of  his  heart,  and 
actually  wasted  a  minute  of  his  time  in  gazing. 
Then  he  tiptoed  nearer;  took  a  silken  kerchief  from 
his  inner  pocket,  and  drew  the  cloak  from  his  own 
shoulders ;  glanced  out  of  the  window  to  perceive  the 
shadowy  outline  of  a  chaise  and  four  in  the  road,  a 
few  yards  distant.  Cat-like  he  crept  back  to  the 
bedside;  stooping  above  it,  with  gentlest,  tenderest 
touch,  he  drew  the  coverings  from  her.  Smothering 
her  speech  or  cry  with  the  kerchief  thrust  into  her 
mouth,  and  wrapping  the  cloak  about  her,  he  raised 
her  in  his  arms,  then  plunged  down  the  stair- 
case, across  the  hallway  quickly,  yet  carefully, 
so  as  to  reach  the  door  he  had  left  open  for  his 
exit. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  383 

But  into  this  silence,  into  this  mad  struggle  of  the 
creature  within  his  grasp  for  freedom,  came  her  cry ; 
one  loud,  piercing  shriek,  as,  for  a  second,  Pamela 
gained  the  freedom  of  her  lips,  and  called  once, 
"Harlowe!" 

'Twas  but  a  single  cry.  He  who  held  her  forced 
the  kerchief  back,  and,  to  make  sure  now,  halted  to 
knot  it  more  firmly  with  his  teeth  and  left  hand,  while 
the  right  held  his  prisoner  close. 

But  that  cry  had  been  heard;  had  shot  through 
and  through  the  light,  watchful  slumber  of  him  whose 
name  she  uttered. 

Fully  equipped,  for  he  had  cast  himself  upon  his 
couch  with  no  thought  of  taking  off  anything  but 
his  coat,  Harlowe  seized  the  sword,  which  lay  ready 
to  his  hand,  and  with  a  single  plunge  was  out  into 
the  hallway,  down  the  stairs,  and  almost  upon  the 
thief  and  his  prey. 

But  it  was  dark  here,  perfectly  dark,  not  a  ray  of 
moon's  light  or  candle ;  the  heavens  were  all  clouded 
again ;  at  the  other  man's  behest,  it  would  seem.  And 
it  was  the  other  man  who,  finding  the  door  blocked  by 
Harlowe,  and  knowing  every  twist  of  the  old  Inn; 
kept  silent,  relentless  hold  on  his  burden,  while  Har- 
lowe shouted: 


384  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Lights !  Beauclerc !  Dormer !  Ho,  there !  Lights ! 
Pamela,  I  am  here !  " 

Then  Charteris  darted  with  his  burden  across  the 
taproom,  just  as  the  hunchback  jumped  out  upon 
the  landing,  light  in  hand;  just  as  Mistress  Dormer, 
in  her  nightrail  and  cap,  ran  shrieking  from  her 
closet;  just  as  Kitty  groped  her  way  out  with  her 
flickering  candle. 

Harlowe  caught  sight  of  the  figure  disappearing 
within  the  taproom,  and  of  Pamela's  little  bare  feet 
beneath  the  cloak. 

"  My  God !  "  he  cried,  and  dashed  after  them ;  but 
the  door  slammed  back  in  his  face. 

The  man  who  bore  the  living  burden  was  a  master 
hand  for  trickery,  and  had  a  cool  head  upon  his 
shoulders,  to  boot. 

Holding  the  girl  in  his  arms  and  the  knot  of  the 
kerchief  between  his  teeth,  with  his  knees  and  one 
hand  he  took  time  to  pitch  a  table  against  the  door 
— then  a  plunge  over  beside  the  chimney-piece,  a 
touch  on  the  spring  that  he  alone  knew.  The  panel 
sprang  open  and  Charteris  passed  with  Pamela  into 
the  infernal  damp  and  musty  darkness  of  the  secret 
passage  to  the  Smuggler's  Cave,  and  the  sea.  Then, 
loosing  her  a  bit,  he  snapped  to  the  panel,  and 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  385 

laughed  back  at  those  who  stood  amazed,  confounded 
in  the  empty  taproom. 

"  Pamela,  beloved !  "  he  whispered,  setting  her  lips 
free  from  the  choking  kerchief,  and  rewrapping  her 
in  his  cloak,  "  I  am  alone  with  you  al  last.  At  last 
I've  got  you — at  last  you're  mine ! " 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

THE    HUNCHBACK   AND    THE    IDIOT    LAD 

IT  took  Harlowe  but  a  moment  to  push  open  the 
taproom  door  and  thrust  the  table  out  of  his 
way.    He  dashed  into  the  place,  the  others  fol- 
lowing eagerly  at  his  heels  each  with  a  different  cry. 
Suddenly  Kitty  cried,  glancing  about :    "  Where's 
Pamela?" 

"  God  Almighty !  "  answered  the  Duke,  who  for  an 
instant  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  paralysed. 
"  It  cannot  be  that  'twas  she  in  the  man's  arms,  and 
he — who  was  he?  " 

"  Charteris,  and  no  other,"  replied  the  poet,  stoop- 
ing to  pick  up  a  glove  embroidered  on  the  back  with 
the  Earl's  crest. 

Kitty  had  flown  up  to  Pamela's  room  and  back. 
"  Pam's  bed  is  empty !     She  is  gone — the  black- 
guard has  stolen  her ! "  cried  she,  with  a  burst  of 
hysterical  tears. 

Harlowe  stood  still,  staring  apparently  in  blank 
386 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  G87 

helplessness  around  the  room.  Not  a  window  or  a 
door  was  open,  not  a  latch  or  bolt  or  bar  displaced. 

"  By  Heaven ! "  cried  Beauclerc,  "  how  did  he  get 
out  of  here?  Is  Charteris  a  magician,  that  he  can 
become  invisible  at  will?  "  Distractedly  he  began 
afresh  to  examine  the  apartment. 

"  Nay,"  said  Harlowe,  now  recovered  from  his 
stupefaction,  all  his  keen,  clean  wits  at  work.  "  'Tis 
the  secret  passage  to  the  sea  he's  taken,  damn  him! 
But,  if  I  live,  I'll  overtake  him  ere  he  reaches  safety." 

He  threw  out  a  few  hasty  questions — did  anyone 
know  the  opening  to  the  subterranean  path? 

None  could  tell  him  more  than  that  it  existed ;  and 
was  once  in  use  by  rebels,  suspects,  and  supporters  of 
the  Pretender ;  later  a  refuge  for  pirates  and  smug- 
glers. 

"  Then,"  said  the  Duke,  "  every  man  to  work ; 
picks,  shovels,  bars,  rapiers,  hammers,  pitchforks ; 
down  with  the  walls  on  either  side  the  chimney-place, 
for  I  remember  hearing  the  opening  is  beside  the 
fire." 

A  shriek  from  Mistress  Dormer,  who  thought  she 
saw  her  home  being  destroyed  about  her  ears,  was  met 
by  Harlowe's  assurance  that  he  would  reimburse  her, 
and  build  her  a  new  and  better  one.  Every  man  set- 


PAMELA    CONGREVE 

tied  to  the  task  of  destruction  with  heart  and  hands, 
fierce,  intense,  not  pausing;  Harlowe  in  the  lead, 
sweating  at  every  pore  of  his  body,  hewing,  hacking, 
beating,  pounding,  crumbling  the  solid  old  walls  into 
a  mass  of  rubbish.  The  air  grew  thick  with  the  dust 
of  the  ancient  mortar,  and  the  workers  were  soon 
knee-deep  in  stones  and  laths  and  beams ;  the  light  of 
day  just  now  crawling  in  at  the  windows  to  shame  the 
candles  and  torches  the  women  were  upholding  for 
the  men. 

"  'Tis  on  this  side,  I  am  persuaded ! "  shouted  the 
Duke  at  the  right.  "  Look,  you,  this  mallet  meets  a 
resistance  here  as  nowhere  else ;  the  panel  is  no  doubt 
of  sheeted  iron,  and  we  must  pry  it  out  of  its  place. 
Beauclerc !  Rawdon !  all  of  ye,  bring  your  tools  and 
j  oin  force  with  mine.  Now  strike  for  your  lives !  " 

And,  by  a  mighty  concerted  shove  they  not  only 
disclosed  the  iron  door  in  its  grooves,  but  displaced  it 
completely,  revealing  the  yawning  mouth  of  the  un- 
derground passage.  A  blast  of  foul  air  drove  them 
all  back  but  two.  Harlowe,  with  a  shout  of  triumph, 
cast  his  hammer  from  him,  seized  his  rapier  and  a 
torch,  and  dashed  down  into  the  abyss. 

A  flight  of  twenty  slippery  steps  led  to  the  bottom ; 
these  he  was  compelled  to  descend  with  caution,  since 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  389 

he  knew  not  In  the  least  what  pitfall  he  might  en- 
counter at  any  moment. 

Beauclerc  followed  him  for  half  the  flight. 

Then  said  he:     "  Harlowe?  " 

"  Aye,"  answered  his  Grace,  "  I'm  still  descending 
— God!  to  think  that  she  should  have  been  fetched 
this  way." 

"  Harlowe,"  called  the  hunchback,  "  two  chances 
are  better  than  one.  I'm  going  up  and  around  by 
the  open  air,  and  will  join  you  at  the  Cave's  mouth 
below — if  so  be  the  tide  has  not  risen,"  he  added 
with  a  sudden  thought. 

"  The  tide ! "  echoed  the  Duke  in  a  new  access  of 
desperation.  "  I  had  forgot  it !  Aye,  Surrey,  take 
to  the  land  above,  and  Heaven  grant  we  are  not  both 
cheated  of  her  rescue." 

So  up  the  hunchback  came,  quite  alone,  for  Lord 
Rawdon,  being  of  a  weak-lunged  generation,  had 
fallen  in  a  fainting  fit  at  the  very  threshold  of  the 
passage,  and  neither  Oliver  nor  his  men  were  of  a 
disposition  to  court  what  they  considered  as  certain 
death. 

And  quite  alone,  too,  he  set  forth  from  the  Inn, 
down  toward  the  sea,  which  he  reached  at  the  very 
moment  when  the  sun  arose  full  above  the  horizon. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE 

He  noted  with  haggard,  horror-stricken  eyes,  that 
the  tide  was  rolling  in — in — in — relentless  upon  the 
sands;  creeping  higher  toward  the  crags  at  every 
wash  of  the  waves,  stealing  hungrily  up,  up,  the 
shore,  and  stretching  one  long  cruel  finger  into  the 
fissure  between  the  Cave  and  the  great  towering 
crags  opposite. 

Beauclerc  stood  for  a  second,  his  thoughts  so 
bitter  that  tears  lay  heavy  on  his  lashes. 

"  Oh,  Thou  Supreme  One,"  muttered  he,  "  to  have 
made  me  thus  impotent,  thus  a  fool,  thus  a  useless 
beast,  and  her  I  worship — I  dare  not  surmise  what 
her  fate  is !  " 

Even  while  he  thus  thought,  he  was  shaping  in  his 
mind  some  plan  of  attempt  at  rescue.  If  he  had  but 
a  boat. 

There  was  none  in  sight,  save  the  fishing  smacks 
from  Cleeve  bumping  far  out  beyond  call  or  signal. 

He  could  not  swim,  poor  broken-hearted  gallant; 
therefore,  no  use  to  throw  himself  into  the  waters. 
Besides,  the  sea,  now  churned  into  a  frothing  wrath 
by  the  lash  of  the  east  wind  that  rode  in  with  the 
sun,  was  rising  higher  and  more  turbulent  with  every 
wave  that  curled. 

Presently  he  knew  that  if  Charteris  and  Pamela 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  391 

were  still  on  the  way  to  the  Cave  they  stood  as  small 
chance  as  Harlowe  did  of  ever  reaching  it ;  knew  that 
if  they  had  reached  it,  neither  he  or  Harlowe  could 
follow  them  without  a  boat,  and  to  get  a  boat  would 
mean  an  hour  or  more's  delay.  An  hour  in  Char- 
teris'  favour  must  mean  his  escape  with  his  prize, 
for  Beauclerc  knew  the  Earl  quite  well  enough  to  be 
certain  that  his  scheme  had  been  well  planned,  and  to 
the  finish. 

Thus  pacing  impotent  up  and  down  the  rocky 
shore,  watching  the  waters  in  the  inlet  rising  higher 
and  higher,  Surrey  heard  a  child's  laugh  and  the 
clapping  of  hands. 

He  looked,  and  saw  that  his  prayer  had  been 
answered. 

There  was  a  little  wherry,  with  fifty  feet  of  rope 
dangling  in  its  wake,  and  in  it  the  simple  lad  belong- 
ing to  the  carrier  of  Cleeve.  Surrey  did  not  know 
who  the  child  was,  or  whence,  but  shouted  to  him; 
showed  him  a  handful  of  money,  his  watch  and  chain 
and  sword.  Thus  lured,  the  lad  paddled  in  among 
the  rocks,  and  laughing  still,  as  he  caught  the  plun- 
der, easily  surrendered  his  oars  to  the  poet,  and  him- 
self sat  in  the  stern,  jingling  his  newly  acquired 
possessions. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Once  in  the  boat,  a  toy  that  was  no  more  than  a 
cockle-shell  and  could  hold  but  three,  the  poet  realised 
that  he  had  no  experience  to  help  him,  and  was 
handling  sculls  for  the  first  time  in  his  life.  But  he 
knew  where  he  wanted  to  go,  and  for  that  point  he 
pulled  with  all  his  strength.  Along  the  shore  it  was 
easy  as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the  fissure ;  but  there  the 
sea  began  to  boil  and  swash  and  twist  his  frail  craft 
at  its  will.  It  seemed  impossible  to  gain  entrance  to 
the  narrow  pass. 

At  last  he  made  the  lad  understand  something  of 
what  was  needed,  and  gave  up  one  oar  to  him. 
Simple  as  he  was,  his  lif  etime  by  the  sea  made  him  a 
helper  not  to  be  despised. 

Thus  these  two,  the  hunchback  and  the  idiot, 
strove  with  the  whims  of  the  great  waters,  and  pres- 
ently mastered  them,  and  guided  the  h'ttle  creaking 
craft  into  the  inlet;  into  the  very  middle  of  the 
tumultuous  stream,  which  now  filled  the  thirty-foot 
fissure  between  the  Cave  and  the  higher  crags  oppo- 
site to  its  entrance,  and  the  hunchback  shouted: 

"  Pamela !    Harlowe !    Harlowe,  I  say !  " 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

WHEN    THE    TIDE    RISES    AT    TAMWORTH 

CHARTERIS,  having  carried  his  burden 
to  the  foot  of  the  flight  of  steps,  set  her 
down  on  the  lowest  one,  struck  a  light 
once  more,  and  looked  at  her. 

Pamela  said  nothing ;  made  no  motion ;  uttered  no 
cry. 

He  stooped,  undid  the  strips  of  velvet  from  his  own 
feet  and  wrapped  them  about  hers;  still  she  did  not 
speak. 

"  Pamela,"  said  he,  "  no  word  for  me,  not  one? 
Me  that  has  risked  more  than  life  to  obtain  you ! " 
She  shook  her  head. 

"  Well,"  he  cried  with  a  laugh,  "  at  this  moment 
there  is  no  time  but  run  for  our  lives — I  can  carry 
you  no  further  lest  I  stumble  and  fall  in  this  dam- 
nable hole — or  the  tide  will  be  up  and  catch  us  before 
we  can  reach  the  Cave." 

She  rose  as  he  took  her  by  the  arm,  and  together 
393 


394  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

thus  they  fled  along  the  steep  slimy  incline  down 
toward  the  sea,  he  bearing  the  lighted  torch  in  one 
hand,  holding  her  fast  with  the  other. 

"  Pamela,"  he  said  again,  "  speak !  " 

But  she  did  not. 

"  Then,"  cried  he,  "  if  you  will  not,  I  will,  and  tell 
you  I'd  have  compassed  heaven  and  hell  but  I'd  have 
got  you !  I'll  fetch  you  over  to  Holland  or  France 
before  to-morrow  night  and  make  you  my  wife,  and 
make  you  happy." 

Fair,  fond,  foolish  chimera !  Was  there  ever  man 
born  who  did  not  believe  and  swear  he  would  make 
the  woman  he  loved  happy,  leaving  out  of  the  propo- 
sition altogether  the  matter  of  her  loving  him? 

Still  Pam  said  nothing  as  on  they  hurried,  breath- 
less, toward  the  sea — she  as  breathless  as  he,  praying 
for  that  haven — for  all  Pam's  maiden  soul  was  in 
torture ;  all  her  young  blood  burned  within  her  veins ; 
all  her  heart  and  soul  and  flesh  were  outraged, 
chained  there  at  the  wheel  of  this  brutal  conqueror's 
chariot. 

But  her  wits  worked;  the  dauntless  spirit  in  her 
sprang  to  her  rescue  and  support.  In  her  mind 
she  called  to  her  mother,  and  the  remembrance  of  the 
sea  came  to  comfort  her;  and  Pam  knew  that  once 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  395 

at  its  shore,  she  could  cast  herself  into  it  and  be  rid 
forever  of  Charteris. 

So  she  kept  very  still,  not  thwarting  him,  lest  he 
should  hold  her  tighter;  but  rather  hoping  he  would 
loosen  his  grasp  when  they  should  once  reach  the 
other  end  of  the  passage  and  the  caves  or  crags,  she 
cared  not  which,  for  she  knew  the  sea  lapped  them 
both. 

At  first  they  had  heard  the  hammers  and  picks  be- 
hind them  at  the  Greene  Shippe;  but  now  there  was 
not  a  sound  but  their  own  footfalls  on  the  damp  floor 
of  the  place.  Presently  a  disk  of  pale  light  shone 
dimly  in  front  of  them,  and  by  it  and  the  torch,  they 
saw  their  path  divide.  Pam,  she  knew  not  why,  in- 
clined toward  the  right. 

"  Ah,  no !  "  cried  Charteris,  pulling  her  to  the  left. 
"  That  leads  to  the  crags,  and  if  the  tide  be  in  it's 
no  place  for  us — we  could  not  gain  the  Cave  by  it ; 
this  way  we  reach  the  mouth  and  safety,  even  if  the 
tide  has  begun  to  rise." 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  in  open  daylight ;  they 
had  reached  it  before  the  tide  had  made  headway. 
The  Earl  once  more  lifted  her  in  his  arms,  and  strode 
with  her  into  the  shallows  of  the  inlet  across  to  the 
Cave,  and  set  her  down. 


396  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Then  by  the  dawning  light  he  looked  at  her  and 
smiled. 

"Art  never  going  to  speak  again?"  he  asked 
tenderly. 

She  shook  her  head,  and  now,  released  from  him, 
she  made  a  dart  to  the  Cave's  edge,  as  if  to  throw 
herself  into  the  waters. 

But  Charteris  was  beforehand  with  her. 

"  Oh,  no !  "  he  cried.  "  Now,  Pam,  sweetheart, 
listen :  if  you  attempt  that,  I'll  hold  you  fast  to  me 
from  now  on  until  Pink  seeks  us.  He  had  orders  to 
meet  me  here  if  I  failed  to  get  out  of  the  Inn  with 
you  in  safety  by  the  door.  He  cannot  reach  us  for 
hours  yet,  not  before  dark,  so  I'll  e'en  hold  you  in 
my  arms  until  then,  unless  you  promise  not  to  try 
that  game  again." 

Then  for  a  space  there  was  such  a  struggle  be- 
tween this  man  and  this  woman  as — God  help  all 
women — seldom  comes  into  any  life — struggle  of  soul 
with  craft,  of  purity  with  unparallelled  covet ;  of 
mind  with  mind,  the  one  as  keen  of  wit  as  the  other ; 
of  helplessness  with  force.  For  Pamela  spoke  to  him 
now,  argued,  reasoned,  commanded,  pleaded  that  he 
should  kill  her  or  leave  her. 

"  No,"  answered  he  imperturbably.    "  I  love  you ; 


PAMELA  CONGREVE  397 

I've  got  you ;  I  will  never  resign  you ;  I  care  not  if 
you  hate  or  despise  me.  You  are  mine — and  there's 
an  end  of  't." 

She  stood  leaning  against  the  wall  of  the  Cave, 
near  the  wide  opening.  Charteris  had  his  hand  upon 
her  shoulder ;  he  was  gazing  into  her  eyes,  when  a  cry 
went  up  from  the  top  of  the  crags  that  towered  thirty 
feet  aboye  and  opposite  them. 

Pamela  looked  up  and  out. 

It  was  Harlowe — and  he  beheld  her  with  Charteris ; 
and  Charteris  saw  the  Duke  and  laughed  in  his 
face,  as  he  knew  the  utter  impotence  of  his  rival's 
position. 

Harlowe  had  taken  the  right-hand  turn  in  the  pas- 
sage, and  come  out  upon  the  headland.  The  sea  in 
the  inlet  boiled  below  him ;  to  leap  into  it  meant  cer- 
tain death  and  nothing  gained;  he  stood  still,  heard 
the  Earl's  laughter,  and  cursed  his  Creator  in  bitter 
and  awful  words.  For  Charteris  flung  his  arms  now 
about  his  prey  and  kissed  her  mouth  with  all  the  de- 
moniac fury  of  his  passion ;  twice,  thrice,  a  hundred 
times ;  flinging  glances  over  his  shoulder  up  at  Har- 
lowe, in  a  frenzy  of  triumphant  joy — and,  "  Damn 
you !  Damn  you !  Damn  you !  "  he  cried  to  the 
Duke,  as  he  pressed  his  lips  upon  Pamela's. 


PAMELA    CONGREVE 

But  Pamela  found  her  voice  again.  "  Harlowe, 
save  me ! "  she  cried  in  agony. 

And  he  drew  his  pistol  and  aimed  it  at  the  Earl. 

"  Oh ! "  said  Charteris,  "  not  quite  so  fast,  your 
Grace !  "  He  pulled  Pam  in  front  of  him  and  smiled, 
as  if  it  were  some  ceremony  at  Court. 

"  Fire !  fire !  "  called  Pamela.  "  Fire !  kill  me !  kill 
me  straight,  Dudleigh ;  I  command  you !  "  . 

But  Harlowe  dropped  his  hand,  and  then  turned 
the  weapon  upon  himself. 

It  was  just  in  that  nick  of  time  that  Surrey  Beau- 
clerc,  in  the  wherry  with  the  little  simple  lad,  gained 
the  inlet  and  shouted  out  "  Pamela ! "  and  "  Har- 
lowe!" 

The  Duke  sprang  to  the  edge  of  the  precipice, 
knelt,  looked  over,  and  saw  who  it  was.  "  Have  you 
a  rope?  "  he  cried.  "  You  have !  "  espying  it  where 
the  little  lad  had  left  it  dragging  when  he  stole  his 
father's  boat.  "  Surrey,  for  the  love  of  Heaven,  coil 
it,  and  pitch  it  up  to  me !  If  I  jump  I'd  drown  in  that 
seethe  below,  or  I  would  have  been  down  ere  this." 

Beauclerc  was  quick  of  hand,  and  while  he  bade  the 
lad  steady  the  boat,  he  coiled  and  tossed  the  rope  to 
Harlowe.  It  took  but  a  moment  to  knot  it,  to  fasten 
one  end  safely  around  a  jutting  crag,  and  the  other 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  399 

about  his  waist ;  and  he  was  letting  himself  down, 
hand  over  hand,  to  the  water. 

Beauclerc  held  fast  to  the  rocks  with  bleeding 
fingers,  thus  keeping  the  craft  from  slipping  away, 
for  the  waters  now  surged  in  fury,  and  boiled  and 
swirled,  as  was  their  custom  every  time  the  tide  rose 
at  Tamworth. 

Harlowe  leaped  into  the  boat,  both  sculls  in  his 
grasp.  It  was  as  if  the  craft  were  a  living  thing, 
and  felt  the  touch  of  such  virility;  it  obeyed  him 
willingly,  and  in  a  minute  more  he  had  pulled  it 
to  the  Cave's  mouth,  jumped  ashore,  and  was 
chasing  Lord  Charteris  up  the  den,  he  still  holding 
Pamela  before  him  as  a  shield.  And  Surrey  Beau- 
clerc watched  it  all,  his  great  heart  throbbing 
madly. 

Harlowe  reached  them;  tore  her  from  the  Earl's 
grasp,  put  her  to  one  side  out  of  danger ;  and  then, 
magnificent,  magnanimous,  heroic,  holding  out  his 
pistol  and  his  rapier  both  to  his  rival : 

"  Choose  your  weapon,  my  Lord  Charteris,  and  say 
your  prayers,  for,  although  I  give  you  a  fair  chance 
to  defend  your  life,  by  God  in  Heaven!  I'll  not 
leave  you  here  alive  with  her." 

Charteris  inclined  his  head  with  a  sardonic  smile. 


400  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Your  Grace,"  he  answered,  with  a  smooth  urbanity, 
"  I'll  not  choose  either,  I  thank  you,  but — to  hell 
with  you ! "  he  cried  suddenly,  snatching  the  dirk 
which  was  his  familiar  from  his  hip,  and  with  a 
curious  backward  jump  making  to  plant  it  in  Har- 
lowe's  heart.  "  I'll  have  the  best " 

But  Pelham,  Lord  Charteris,  if  ever  he  finished 
that  sentence  at  all,  was  compelled  to  do  so  in  some 
other  world  than  this. 

A  ball  pierced  his  side,  and,  without  so  much  as  a 
sigh,  he  fell  where  he  stood,  a  crumpled  heap. 

A  second  shot  was  heard  to  follow  the  first,  doubt- 
less misaimed,  for  the  ball  did  not  enter  the  cave. 
Pamela  and  Harlowe  looked  into  each  other's  eyes. 

The  man  spoke  first :  "  We  owe  it  to  Beauclerc ! " 
he  said ;  and  going  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  he  looked 
out.  "  I  see  no  one,  though,  save  the  wherry  that 
fetched  me  to  you,  and  the  little  lad  in  it  drifting 
down  the  inlet.  Gad!  'tis  the  very  same  whose  life 
we  saved  at  Cleeve,  Pamela,  sweet !  " 

"  Aye,  is  it  so  ?  "  said  she,  coming  close,  too,  and 
looking  forth.  "  He  is  alone,  though.  Where  can 
Beauclerc  be?  " 

"  Safe,  my  heart ;  of  that  there's  not  a  doubt." 

And  back  he  came  to  her,  to  enwrap  her  and  enfold 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  401 

her  with  the  arms  of  his  love.  His  speech  was  sweet 
and  tender;  full  of  all  fondness  ever  man  made 
manifest. 

"  But,  hush,"  whispered  she,  glancing  up  to  the 
far  end  of  the  cavern  where  the  Earl  lay ;  "  yonder's 
death ;  let  us  be  silent." 

And  presently  Rawdon  came  in  a  smack  with 
Dormer  and  a  round  dozen  of  the  villagers,  and 
fetched  them  both  to  the  Inn ;  and  then  back  again 
very  decently,  but  with  a  loathing  in  their  simple 
minds,  to  bring  Lord  Charteris  out  of  this  place, 
and  put  him  into  his  post-chaise,  and  see  him  be 
carried  out  of  Tamworth  by  his  own  horses  and  men 
— Pink,  to  his  credit,  be  it  said,  sitting  within  the 
vehicle,  and  propping  his  master's  head  upon  the 
cushions  as  they  went  up  to  town. 


CHAPTER  XL 

TEUEST,    NOBLEST,    DEAEEST    FEIEND 

WHEN  Harlowe  had  seen  Pamela  safely 
bestowed    with    Kitty    and    Mistress 
Dormer  and  all  the  maids  beside,  and 
they  had  put  warm,  dry  garments  on  her,  he  left  her 
sitting  by  the  fire  in  the  kitchen,  and  went  out  to 
seek  for  Beauclerc. 

"  Come  not  back  without  him,"  said  Pam,  "  for 

we  do  owe  him " 

"  Everything ! "  Harlowe  finished  her  thought, 
and,  kissing  her  finger  tips,  went  off  across  the  heath 
through  the  village.  But  there  was  no  trace  of  the 
poet,  or  news  of  him  either,  in  Tamworth.  So  the 
Duke  proceeded  quickly  to  the  crags;  and  thence 
along  the  shallow  bed  of  the  Inlet,  for  the  tide  was 
pushing  out  by  this  to  the  smooth  level  of  the  hard 
and  shining  sands. 

There  was  something  yonder,  surely,  lying  on  so 
cruel  a  bed — something  that  the  receding  waters  had 

402 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  403 

carried  down  in  their  embrace  as  they  slunk  out  of 
the  fissure;  something  that  they  had  brought  here 
and  laid  down  to  the  longest  rest  man  can  ever 
take. 

It  was  the  hunchback  who  lay  there,  his  face  up- 
turned, a  wan  smile  upon  his  lips,  the  bullet  that  his 
own  hand  had  fired  gashing  his  breast.  Harlowe 
remembered  the  second  shot  after  the  one  that  had 
ended  Charteris,  and  understood — understood  all  the 
love  and  hopelessness,  and  generosity  and  renunci- 
ation, and  grandeur,  of  ;he  man  who  was  dead  before 
him. 

A  little  way  off  the  shore,  the  wherry  rode  out  to 
sea  with  the  oars  afloat  far  from  it ;  a  little  way  off 
on  land,  the  simple  lad  was  dancing,  full  of  glee, 
throwing  his  sovereigns  in  the  air  and  catching  them 
again.  When  he  perceived  the  Duke,  he  ran  toward 
him,  and  pointed,  laughing,  toward  the  poet. 

All  about  his  body  the  little  lad  had  stuck  the 
sand  full  of  blades  of  the  long  sweet  sea-grass  that 
grew  hard  by;  he  had  plaited  bunches  of  it  into  a 
wreath,  too,  and  decked  Beauclerc's  brow  with  it ;  and 
he  shouted  for  joy  when  the  Duke  patted  his  head 
approvingly  and  bestowed  more  gold  and  silver  upon 
him. 


404  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

Harlowe  knelt  down  by  his  friend ;  the  little  simple 
child  knelt,  too,  although  he  knew  not  what  for. 

"  Surrey  Beauclerc,  poet,  gentleman,  soldier  that 
has  fought  and  won  the  bitterest  battle;  truest, 
noblest,  dearest  friend  man,  or  woman,  ever  had !  " 
said  he,  the  witless  boy  repeating  each  word  after 
him  with  all  the  exactitude  he  could — and  then  he 
stooped  and  laid  his  lips  in  reverence  on  the  lean 
gaunt  hands,  and  folded  them  together,  and  closed 
the  beautiful  eyes,  and  lifted  the  simple  lad  away, 
and  fetched  him  back  to  the  Inn. 


CHAPTER  XLI 

"  THOU    AND    I    TOGETHEE  " 

SOME  weeks  later,  Pamela  and  Harlowe  sat 
together  in  the  Sweet-Acre.  They  were  to 
be  married  the  next  day ;  Kitty,  soon  to  be- 
come Lady  Spencer,  was  to  be  bridesmaid,  and  Sir 
Thomas  was  to  give  the  bride  away. 

Lady  Betty  had  made  off  to  Paris  with  some 
friends,  most  indignant,  and  avowing  she  was  sure 
that  Charteris  had  been  murdered.  Nevertheless,  her 
ladyship  was  presently  won  from  her  tantrums  by  a 
fine  gentleman  from  Italy ;  and  since  he  was  of  a 
fiery  and  wayward  disposition,  it  was  not  long  after 
the  nuptials  that  Lady  Betty  found  she  had  truly 
met  her  match. 

Pam,  then,  and  Dudleigh,  were  in  the  gardens,  she 
holding  in  her  hand  her  tambour-frame,  and  making 
to  finish  her  embroidery. 

"  Nay,"  said  he,  "  sweet,  my  heart,  thy  hand  be- 
longs to  me.  I'd  none  of  stitches  or  fallals  now. 

I  want  thee  all  to  myself." 

405 


406  PAMELA    CONGREVE 

"  Jealous,  sweet  fellow,"  answered  she.  "  Shall  I 
never  be  allowed  to  do  anything  but  serve  and  please 
your  Grace  ?  "  She  laughed  as  she  put  away  her 
needle  and  resigned  her  hand  to  his. 

"  What  more  or  better  could  you  desire  ?  "  asked 
he  imperiously,  laughing,  too. 

"  Tyrant !  "  cried  she. 

"  And  would  you  have  me  less  one?  "  queried  he, 
with  amused  assurance. 

"  Nay ;  I  would  not,  my  dearest  lord !  "  Then, 
earnestly,  looking  into  his  eyes,  "  Before  'tis  too  late, 
are  you  sure  you  will  be  happy,  satisfied  with  me  for 
your  duchess  ?  " 

"  Quite  sure,"  he  answered  masterfully.  "  Pam, 
'tis  wonderful  and  fine  to  be  a  soldier,  say,  or  to  ex- 
plore and  travel  into  distant  dangerous  countries ;  to 
be  a  student  and  a  thinker;  to  be  a  statesman  and 
philanthropist;  a  trader,  a  sailor;  all  these  things, 
when  a  man  pursues  them  with  thirst  of  knowledge 
and  love  of  his  fellows,  bring  him  joy,  a  sense  of 
being  glad  that  he  is  he,  himself — but,  look  you,  my 
sweetest  heart,  there's  not  one  of  'em  all,  nor  all  of 
'em  put  together — but  sinks  as  nothing  beside  the 
happiness  of  thou  and  I  together.  When  to-morrow 
night  I  fetch  you  home  with  me,  when  we  two  sit 


PAMELA    CONGREVE  407 

down  at  our  own  hearth,  God  Almighty!  Pam, 
that's  the  one  thing  in  the  whole  world  that's  worth 
the  struggle — the  man  with  his  wife." 

She  gave  a  low  and  rapturous  sigh. 

He  enfolded  her  the  closer,  asking  quickly,  envious 
of  a  possible  regretting  thought,  "  How  is't  with 
thee,  my  own?  Hast  any  doubts  I'll  make  thee  hap- 
pier than  thou  hast  ever  been  in  the  old  life  with  its 
glitter,  its  applause  and  admiration,  eh?  " 

"  None !  "  whispered  she,  shy  yet  earnest.  "  Oh, 
what's  all  the  applause  and  admiration  on  earth  to — 
being  thine?  Trust  me,  sir,  there's  not  a  woman 
breathing  who'd  not  exchange  whatever  fame  she's 
won.  for  that  which  thou  hast  given  me ! " 


A  —  '"'""Illlllllf 


